


An Iolaus a Day

by Amorette



Category: Hercules the Legendary Journeys
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 44,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4553796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorette/pseuds/Amorette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, it's better than having Iolaus dead again but it is giving Hercules a headache and Jason can't keep them all straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First, a thief

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: some very slight references to "Greek" relationships but absolutely nothing offensive. Some off-camera fooling around between Iolaus and a woman you'll find amusing but nothing graphic. PG if that.

An Iolaus a Day  
by Amorette

Whimpering, Iolaus leaned over the edge of his cot, letting the coughs wrack his body until he felt the blood well up in his mouth. He spat it on the floor, then dragged himself upright, leaning back against the wall of his cell, struggling for breath. This was the worst of it, not the pain, not the blood, not the knowing he was dying, it was trying to get air into his damaged lungs. He gasped desperately and slowly as the worst of the attack passed. Not for the first time, he wished he had a knife and the nerve to end his misery.

He heard a guard approaching but ignored it, lost in his own suffering. When the key turned in the lock, he did lift his head, curious. Why would anyone be coming into his cell? Since his illness had become obvious, no one came near him, save the guards who pushed bread and water through to him twice and day.

The guard held a torch in front of him, the light making Iolaus’ eyes contract painfully. There was someone with the guard, a tall man, but Iolaus couldn’t tell who it was.

“That’s him,” he heard the guard say doubtfully. “You sure you want him.”

The other man spoke, his voice familiar. “Yes. Clean him up and bring him to me.”

“My lord.” As the tall man left, the guard said to Iolaus, “You heard him, get up.”

“Why?”

“How should I know? The man wants your stinking corpse, he gets your stinking corpse. He’s paid off the rest of your sentence so he owns your sorry ass. C’mon, I haven’t got all day.”

Iolaus was so weak, from months of sickness and imprisonment, that he could barely walk but he knew he’d get no help from the guard. Leaning on the wall, he followed the guard out of the cellblock and into a small room. Looking around, Iolaus realized it was the morgue, where bodies were prepared for burial. There weren’t any dead in it today, just him, who was close enough to dead to almost be ready for the place. There was a tub, though, filled with water.

“Clean up,” ordered the guard, standing well back from Iolaus. “Put on those clothes. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Moving slowly, Iolaus obeyed the order, too puzzled by the turn of events to do otherwise. He stripped off his filthy prison garb and scrubbed himself as best he could, with the cold water and harsh soap provided. Just being cleaner made him feel better, if exhausted by the effort. He barely managed to pull on the trousers and tunic left for him before collapsing into a corner.

Who was the tall man? He knew he had heard the voice before but he couldn’t imagine who he knew that would pay off his sentence, especially since it had nearly six years left to run. Whoever paid off the sentence would have to pay the whole thing, even if Iolaus knew he wouldn’t live to see the end of the year, let alone the end of his time in prison. Why would someone pay that much money for a dying thief?

The door opened and his guard returned. He grunted. “Better than nothing, I suppose. Stand up.”

Iolaus had to try twice to before he could obey the order. Finally, he lurched to his feet and followed the guard again, out into the prison yard. The tall man was there, standing next to a cart. As Iolaus’ eyes adjusted to the late afternoon light, he could see the man who now owned him.

Sun-streaked brown hair, a handsome face and body, wearing fine leather armor, trimmed in copper and gold. Iolaus was sure now that he knew this person but his brain was so fogged, he couldn’t remember.

The tall man spoke. “Iolaus the thief.” The man’s voice, so tantalizingly familiar, sounded disgusted. “Do you know who I am?”

At that instant, the man turned enough so Iolaus could see the signet badge on the clasp of the tall man’s cape. It was the red eagle crest of the God of War.

“You’re Hercules,” gasped Iolaus. 

Hercules. Iolaus had grown up in the same town as Hercules but where Iolaus was the bastard son of a village whore, Hercules was the son of Zeus. As a child, Iolaus had often seen the tall, proud son of the King of Gods walking the streets of Thebes, an entourage of the sons of all the highest ranking men in constant attendance. He had envied Hercules then, since Iolaus had no idea who fathered him, envied Hercules the strength and size his divine blood had given him, the aura of confidence and power that surrounded the boy who was younger than Iolaus but so much, much more important. 

One of Iolaus’ first thefts had been of a long dagger that Hercules often wore. Iolaus had been proud of that, of his skill, light-fingered enough to take a knife from Hercules. He had fled Thebes with that knife, knowing he didn’t dare stay in case he was suspected, but , occasionally, over the years, he had encountered the other boy, now grown to a man, a famous warrior in the service of his kinsman, the God of War, but always from a safe distance.

The dagger Iolaus had stolen so long ago was lost, sold years before. Surely Hercules couldn’t even remember that theft.

Hercules walked over to Iolaus, his face full of contempt. “I’m told you were once one of the smartest, most skillful thieves whoever lived. That you were considered by some to be the king of your kind. What went wrong?”

Iolaus coughed and spat blood at Hercules’ feet.

“Ah.” Hercules gestured to the guard. “Put him in the wagon.”

Roughly, and with obvious reluctance, the guard grabbed Iolaus by the arm, dragged him over to the cart and forced him up onto the floor of the conveyance. The driver of the cart, who also wore the livery of the God of War, glanced at Iolaus with the same look of contempt and disgust everyone used on him these days.

“Take him to the temple,” ordered Hercules to the driver. “I’ll follow later.”

With that, the driver snapped the reins over the backs of his horse and the cart jerked, throwing Iolaus forward. With the last of his strength, Iolaus forced himself upright, into a corner, locking his arms on the sides of the cart as he was taken to his mysterious future.

***

Whistling, Iolaus trotted down the path that lead to the lake. He was alive again, which made him happy every morning when he awoke. The Light was a pleasant, no, blissful, place to be but he just wasn’t ready to spend an eternity there. He and Hercules had too much to do before then. And today, one of the things he needed to do was fish. There was no hunger in the Light but that also meant that were was no satisfaction of hunger, which could be a very delightful thing indeed.

Hercules was following his friend, smiling at the back of Iolaus’ head. He felt the same way Iolaus did, happy every day when he woke up, because Iolaus was back, with him, where he belonged. Those months when Iolaus was gone were too dark to even contemplate and now, with Iolaus back again, Hercules felt as if he were basking in a warm glow all the time.

A sudden gust of wind, strong enough to stop Iolaus’ forward progress, startled both men. The day was sunny, with a few clouds drifting high in the sky, and there had been a light breeze, just enough to keep the heat from becoming unpleasant, but that gust of wind had the feel of storm in it.

Puzzled, Iolaus stopped and turned back to look at Hercules, a question on his face. Hercules shrugged, looking around.

“What,” said Iolaus, turning slowly around in a circle, seeing nothing but peaceful rolling hills, dotted with sheep and wildflowers, “was that?”

“I dunno.” Hercules frowned. Something in that gust had set his teeth on edge.

Iolaus sighed. “From the look on your face, I’d say it wasn’t just a touch of bad weather.”

“No, sorry, but it felt. . .”

Before Hercules could explain what the gust felt like, a second gust hit, blowing directly at the two men, hard enough to lay the grass flat and stagger both of them. For a instant, no more than handful of heartbeats, a cold wind howled around them, a blast of air from the heart of a blizzard. Then, just as suddenly, it was gone. Only a few twigs scattered on the ground, and the puzzled expression on the face of two men, gave an indication of what had happened.

Hercules finished his sentence. “That felt like something from the gods.”

They waited, tense, expecting something to follow the divine wind. After several minutes, Iolaus said, “Maybe it wasn’t from the gods. Or if it was, it wasn’t meant for us.”

“Could be.” Hercules turned slowly around, staring as hard as he could at any movement, to see if it was one of his relatives.

“Whatever it was, it’s gone.” Iolaus started down the slope towards the river. “And the fish are waiting. Herc, after we go fishing, maybe we should go see Jason. I mean, now that I’m not dead anymore, I’d like to see him.”

Hercules smiled. He couldn’t help it. Anything Iolaus did these days made him smile.

***

Iolaus awoke as the cart jerked to a stop in the courtyard of large temple. The driver said, “get out,” and he did so, his feet barely touching the cold pavement of the courtyard before the cart rumbled away, leaving the thief standing very puzzled and alone.

All his life, Iolaus had made an effort to avoid having anything to do with gods. He never prayed, never sacrificed or made offerings, never used the name of a god, even when cursing, in an effort to avoid any notice. So why was he standing there, in front of a large temple dedicated to the God of War? He debated going inside and decided to wait, lowering himself slowly to the ground, too weak to stand.

He hadn’t sat long when he heard the sound of an approaching horse and looked up to see his purchaser riding into the courtyard on a magnificent bay stallion. Iolaus had dabbled in horse thievery at one time and that animal would have fetched a fine price.

Hercules swung down from the saddle. “Follow me.”

With a weary sigh, Iolaus got to his feet and followed the bigger man through those imposing ebony doors and into the temple. Hercules strode across the nave, then stopped impatiently next to the door that lead into the inner sanctuary, waiting for Iolaus to catch up.

“Forgive me for asking,” Iolaus gasped, leaning on a handy pillar, “but why would the God of War want me?”

“I’ll let Hades explain.” Hercules opened the doors and entered the sanctuary.

Very hesitantly, Iolaus followed. He found himself in large room, hung with weapons, facing a throne carved of black stone. Sitting in the throne was a man Iolaus knew instantly was the God of War himself. He was a handsome, if not particularly imposing, man with short dark hair, dressed in heavy armor, an ornate sword hanging off his hip. Beside him, dressed in a simple white robe, was another man. No, Iolaus reconsidered, noting the aura of power that surrounded the man in white. Another god, this one with long black hair and dark eyes. After a moment, he realized it must be Ares, God of Wisdom.

Hades pointed a gloved finger at Iolaus and said in a voice that clearly showed his amazement, “That’s him?”

Ares stepped forward. Iolaus drew back, his knees trembling so that he could barely stand. Ares replied, “Yes. I’m sure of it.”

“He doesn’t look like much.”

“He doesn’t have to, you know.”

“Tell me, mortal,” said Ares, his voice a deep purr, “have you ever imagined what your life would be like if you had made different choices, taken different paths?”

“Uh, sure. I suppose. Everyone does.” Iolaus had no idea what was going on but the intense gazes of two gods and one demigod were making his heart pound. 

“Well, my friend.” Ares smiled and Iolaus had to admit, he had a very nice smile. “You may have the chance to find out.”

Ares' hand twitched and Iolaus felt a chair press against the backs of his knees. He collapsed into it gratefully. The god in white paced slowly back and forth across the front of the chamber, apparently unconcerned about the dark looks he was receiving from his fellow divine being.

Holding his hands in front of him, Ares said, “Imagine if you will, that the world is a sphere.”

Iolaus started to say something but thought the better of it and just nodded. If the God of Wisdom tells you the world is sphere, than the world is a sphere. In truth, Iolaus had never given much thought to the matter. His concerns with geography were more related to where a pin held a lock shut or what was the quickest escape route should a plan fail.

“This sphere,” continued Ares, “is but one smaller sphere in many. Each of these spheres touch to create an enormous sphere made up of all the smaller worlds it contains. Each smaller world is a world similar to ours but differing in some key ways. There exists, for example, a world in which you. . .” He pointed at Iolaus, who flinched. “chose not to steal that dagger from my brother there and never set yourself on the path of thievery. Adjacent to it might be a world where you were a thief but a more successful one, one who never saw the inside of a prison. Do you understand?”

Iolaus had no idea what the god was talking about but nodded anyway.

“Imagine,” continued Ares, ignoring the God of War as he yawned, “That all these alternate worlds also form a sphere, the worlds forming the shell of an egg, as it were. Now, imagine that all of these alternate worlds are connected by an imaginary thread to the world that is the most opposite on the other side of the sphere. . .”

As the God of Wisdom continued his lecture, he was wandering behind the throne of Hades to rest his hand on one of the skull-shaped finials that topped it. As Ares looked away, Iolaus leaned slightly towards Hercules, who was now sitting on a chair his patron had summoned for him when it became obvious that Ares was about to begin a long lecture.

“Why,” whispered Iolaus, “is he telling me this? I have no idea what he is going on about.”

Hercules whispered a reply. “He’s telling you this because he loves the sound of his own voice.”

“Mortal!” Ares’ voice was sharp. “Are you paying attention?”

“Of course, great Ares.” He tried to remember what the god had just said. “Ah, thread passing through the center to the opposite world. Got it.”

Pleased, Ares smiled. “Now all those threads pass through a center point and that point, that nexus, is the key to our plans. It is a place that doesn’t exist in any world but out of all time and space.”

“Ah, all right. But, forgive me, what has that got to do with me?”

It was Hades who answered, his voice impatient. “Ares here has been studying this empty spot where the threads come together. . .”

“Nexus,” prompted the God of Wisdom, who received a fierce glower from Hades.

“Whatever. He discovered that someone passed through it a few years ago, and then again a few months ago. Two people, and a motley collection of gods.”

“Really?” So, thought Iolaus. I still don’t see how that affects me.

“It affects you, mortal,” snarled Hades, although whether he actually read the thief’s thoughts or just guessed them wasn’t clear to Iolaus, “because you were one of the mortals.”

“Two of them, actually,” said Ares. “Several years ago, I was watching that place to see if it was truly unchanging when suddenly, a man ran through it, then ran back through it in the opposite direction. He appeared to be the same man yet his clothing was different. A few hours later, the reverse appeared. One man running one way, passing an identical man running the other.”

Iolaus shook his head. “I’ve never. . .”

“No.” Ares smiled again. “You have never gone to this place but a version of yourself, a man who looks like you and, I suspect, shares many aspects of your soul, has passed through the nexus. Two versions, from the most directly opposite worlds, passed each other. I kept watching, and finally, I was rewarded. I saw him.”

Ares pointed at Hercules, who, unlike Iolaus, managed to look directly into the god’s eyes. “Two versions of him. Like you, the Hercules who has so long served my dear uncle Hades had no idea that other versions of himself exist. One of those versions remained behind in that nexus. Later, another version of him was also trapped there. He later escaped.”

Confused, Iolaus said, to the man sitting next to him, “Was it you?”

Hercules shook his head. He looked bored. Hades looked impatient. 

“Get to the point,” the God of War commanded.

“I kept watching,” continued Ares, “and my patience was rewarded. I saw first a god who looked much like me, had my visage but not, obviously, my wisdom. Then other gods, all of whom looked familiar to me but were different. The same bodies but cast in different roles. Then I saw the man who looked like you again. He and one Hercules remained in that place until another Hercules arrived. Eventually, one version of Hercules was killed there.” 

Ares looked uncomfortable and Hades added, smiling grimly, “By the god who has your face, I believe”

Ares cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“You’re still not getting to the point,” said Hades, “so I will.” He turned and moved swiftly towards Iolaus, who cowered in his chair. “While he was watching, Ares brought Hercules to watch, too. Showed him the men who looked like him and asked him if Hercules knew who the other man trapped in that place was. It took Hercules a moment but he remembered a lowlife thief of his childhood who had that face. Your face.”

“B. . .but I still don’t. . .”

Hades smiled and it was a horrible thing to see. “I want to use that place. I want to. . .” He paused and licked his lips. “Have a place where I can send bothersome persons from which they cannot escape. Ares thinks that place is perfect for my uses.”

“It is not easy to get there,” Ares interrupted, his annoyance at losing the floor plain in his face. “Two gods can open the portal that leads to the nexus but it is difficult.”

Hades interrupted again. “Ares thinks it might be easier if we used someone who had been there. . .”

“That’s not it! You see, mortal, there is a world in which there are two versions of you and that creates an imbalance. . .”

Iolaus was so confused he found himself interrupting a god. “How do you know that?”

“I saw one of you go through, a man who wore a vest and distinctive medallion. Later, another version of you, who wore the clothes of a jester, exited the same way. With, I might add, a version of Hercules.”

“But not the dead one,” said Hercules, who was rubbing at a spot on his boot. “Right?”

“No,” snapped Ares. “Not the dead one! Anyway, there is world with two of you in it, a world out-of-balance.”

Iolaus shook his head. He could hear his breath rasping in his chest and wished, almost, that he was back in his prison cell. This was madness. He was of no interest to the gods. And there certainly weren’t two more of him roaming the world!

“The nexus tilts toward that world and creates a tiny funnel. A funnel that you might fit in better than anyone else.”

Iolaus tried hard to understand but he was so faint, he could barely keep himself in the chair, let alone comprehend what the God of Wisdom was telling him.

“So, I might be able to get to this place more easily than anyone else?”

Hades and Ares both smiled. Hercules sighed, very quietly, and started to worry a thread on his sleeve.

“Exactly,” said Hades. “And once you are there, we think you can make it easier for me to send other. . .people there. We’ve tried to reach into the nexus before but our attempts were not as successful as I hoped. So, we decided to make the effort to find you.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Not much. Just live long enough for us to try.” Hades snapped his fingers and two soldiers appeared. “Clean him up. He stinks.” 

The chair vanished from under Iolaus and he dropped painfully to the floor until the soldiers clutched him under his arms and dragged him to his feet. He wasn’t entirely surprised to see that the gods seemed to have already forgotten him. They were arguing, Hades complaining that Ares had wasted time and breath explaining the whole thing to “that mortal,” since all “that mortal” had to do was obey Hades. Ares was arguing that knowledge was power. Hercules was yawning. Then Iolaus was dragged from the room, the voices of the gods fading behind him.

***

Gasping, Iolaus struggled awake. He coughed and then swallowed and found his breathing easier. Then he remembered the events of the day before. Being taken from his deathbed by Hercules, lectured to by gods and then, after a rough scrubbing, given a decent bed and the attendance of a healer. The healer readily admitted he knew more about battlefield surgery than consumption but gave Iolaus a potion that tasted of poppy which let him sleep.

He was lying in that bed now, propped up by pillows, on clean sheets, dressed in clean clothes. And the God of War and the God of Wisdom were both insane. 

The door opened and the healer came in, carrying medicine and and bowl of thin broth. Behind him was Hercules. The healer dosed Iolaus, then left him to shakily sip his broth under the watchful eye of Hercules.

“Do you understand what they were going on about?” Iolaus asked.

Hercules sat on the room’s only other piece of furniture, a small stool, dragging it as far from the bed as he could. “No idea. I looked into this mirror thing of Ares’ once and saw two men. One looked like me and one looked like you.”

“And you didn’t want to be the one they used for whatever insane plan they had in mind so you recommended me?”

Hercules grinned. “Exactly. If it had been up to Ares, he’d have stuffed me into this whirlwind thing he summoned up without a backward glance. Fortunately, Hades is fond of me. And after Ares thought it over, he decided you’d be better for the experiment anyway.”

“Whirlwind?”

“Um. That what it looks like. A little whirlwind.” Hercules cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to stick anybody into that thing but it was me or you and, like Hades, I’m fond of me.”

Iolaus was puzzled. He stared at Hercules, wondering why the son of the King of the Gods would care what happened to a dying thief. The other man ducked his head under that gaze. Iolaus noticed him starting to tug on a boot lace and realized that though Hercules’ face was well-schooled and gave away no sign of emotion, he could not hold his hands still when he was nervous.

“Don’t apologize.” Iolaus felt his lips quirk in an ironic smile. “It’s not as if anyone were fond of me.”

Hercules raised his head. “My mother is.”

Now Iolaus was genuinely surprised. “The Lady Alcmene? How does she even know who I am?”

“She always feels sorry for. . .underdogs. We used to have three-legged dogs and half-blind cats around when I was a child because she felt sorry for anything weak and helpless.”

“And when I was a child, I struck your mother as weak and helpless.”

“Yeah.” Hercules had turned his attention to a clasp holding his left gauntlet.

Iolaus snorted. “She was wasting her pity. I was a lot less helpless than I looked.”

“Were you now?” Hercules slanted a glance at Iolaus. “I always thought that. I was impressed, you know, when you lifted my dagger right off me. One minute it was there, then it was gone.”

“You knew I took it?”

“Who else? And no one ever saw you again.”

Grinning, Iolaus asked, “So how come you never came after me?”

“I guess I felt sorry for you, too.”

That was not the answer Iolaus hoped for. His smile vanished as quickly as it came. “Save your pity, demigod. I’ve lived quite a life without it and I’ll die without it.”

Hercules stood up. “Get up, then, and face your death.”

After a decent sleep in a decent bed, with at least a little nourishment in his belly, Iolaus felt stronger than he had in weeks. He was still barely able to stand and walk but at least he didn’t feel as if every breath might be his last. Hercules lead him a short distance, into another courtyard, this one enclosed on all four sides by the temple. The two gods appeared moments after the Iolaus and Hercules arrived.

“Right,” said Hades, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s get started.”

“Iolaus.”

Iolaus looked at the God of Wisdom. 

Portentously Ares pronounced, “I will learn much of this.”

“Oh.” Iolaus thought it over. “Glad to be of help.”

Hades extended one hand and a bolt of lightning shot from his palm. It didn’t strike anything but spread out in mid-air, forming a dancing circle of light. Ares lifted one hand and made the same gesture. When the lightning he threw reached the point where Hades’ power was spinning, a hole began to form. As Hercules had said, it was a whirlwind, a spinning vortex of grey clouds and flashing lightning. A fierce wind rose, blowing every speck of dust into the air to swirl and vanish into the center of the whirlwind.

Iolaus felt the tug in the center of his chest as surely as if someone had grabbed the front of his tunic and yanked. He staggered forward, completely unable to resist. Frantically, he looked around and saw Hercules was leaning against the pull, strong enough to hold his ground. The demigod was looking away, at Hades, not at Iolaus, as the thief was pulled inexorably towards the whirlwind.

What was the point, he thought suddenly, of struggling? He didn’t want to live, had nothing to look forward to but a painful, miserable death. Why not just let himself be sucked into whatever that was in the service of two gods? If it hastened his death, all the better, and if he died helping both Hades and Ares, then surely that would earn him credit with Aphrodite when he faced her on the other side. Closing his eyes, Iolaus felt himself lifted and pulled into whatever fate the gods had chose for him.

***

Iolaus was walking backwards, talking to Hercules, discussing how odd it was to have Jason as the head of Cheiron’s Academy when a gust of wind knocked him to the ground. Hercules was at his side in an instant, searching the air for the cause of that wind, certain that the wind was not natural in origin.

“Oh, now what?” muttered Iolaus irritably, rubbing his backside where he had landed on a rock. 

Hercules saw the vortex forming in the air in front of them. His arm instinctively reached out to grab Iolaus and pull the smaller man against him. Nothing was taking Iolaus away from Hercules again. Before Iolaus had a chance to protest, the wind reached a howling pitch, making speech impossible, as a figure suddenly spun out of the center of the vortex, and landed, limply, on the grass a few paces ahead of the two men. With an audible pop, the vortex closed and vanished.

“What on earth?” Iolaus pulled away from Hercules and walked towards the person lying on the ground. It appeared to be a man, dressed in a simple brown tunic and drawstring trousers that were too big for his thin frame. He was breathing, the sound coming harshly to Iolaus’ ears, as he lay curled where he fell. “Someone from the Sovereign’s world, do you think?”

Hercules didn’t answer. Carefully, Iolaus reached out and touched the man, noticing how sharp his bones were under his coarse clothing. The man didn’t stir so Iolaus gently rolled him over on his back.

“What in the name of. . .” Hercules dropped to his knees next to the man. “It looks like you!”

The man did like look Iolaus, if Iolaus had become mortally ill. His sallow skin was drawn tight over the bones of his face and his eyes were sunken in dark hollows. His fair hair was thin and hung lankly on his cheek. The man on the ground stirred, groaning, his eyelashes fluttering. He rolled over to his side, seized with a fit of hacking coughs. As Iolaus and Hercules watched, this sickly twin of Iolaus’ brought up blood. When the coughing ended, the man fell onto his back, his eyes closed, his hand pressed against his chest.

Wiping the man’s mouth with the hem of the brown tunic, Hercules said softly, “What happened? I thought you were with Nautica.”

The man opened his eyes. They were the same bright blue as the Iolaus who knelt next to Hercules, save they were haunted with pain.

“Who?” The man cleared his throat. “Didn’t the plan work?” His eyes moved away from Hercules, took in his surroundings and the man with his face. “What went wrong?”

“Delirious,” said Hercules sharply. Then he lifted his head and called, “Aphrodite!”

“Ah.” The man closed his eyes as he smiled. “I’m dying.” 

“Ah, Herc.” Iolaus had seen his double once, in passing, and since coming back had heard about how the Iolaus from that other world had come back with Hercules, traveled as the demigod’s companion until that Iolaus fell in love with the Sea King’s daughter and went to live with her. “Are you sure this is that other Iolaus?”

“What? Who else could he be? Aphrodite!”

“I dunno but did that Iolaus have an old scar like that?” Iolaus pointed to a long cut that ran under this man’s chin. “And if he is married to the Sea King’s daughter, then wouldn’t he be under the protection of Poseidon? I may be wrong but I think this is. . .” Iolaus swallowed nervously, disturbed by the thought as it formed, “another Iolaus.”

Now that Iolaus mentioned it, Hercules stopped to look more closely at the man. Even if Iolaus the former jester had been taken away from Nautica and returned to his world to contract consumption, it hadn’t been that long since Hercules had seen him. This man had been sick a long time, years from the look of it. And Iolaus was right. There was a scar along his jaw that the other Iolaus hadn’t had. And there were scars on his wrists, from where he had been held in chains for some time. 

“Excuse me,” said Hercules politely, too confused to do anything else, “but is your name Iolaus?”

The man’s eyes came open. “Of course it is!” He raised himself on his elbows. “Wait a minute. You look different.”

“Than what?”

“Than you looked this morning.” The man, this other Iolaus, turned and looked at his counterpart. “Who are you? Were you one of the men Ares saw?”

“Ares!” The anger was plain in Hercules’ voice. “I should have known he’d be involved! Can you tell me what happened? How you got here? What Ares plans are?”

The man started to answer but started coughing again. Hercules made up his mind. Questions could wait. This Iolaus needed medical attention more than Hercules needed answers.

Scooping this other Iolaus into arms, Hercules turned and started back to the Academy where they had been visiting Jason. Iolaus, his expression rather, dazed, followed.

“Get Jason’s healer,” Hercules ordered brusquely, noticing how much lighter this man was than his own Iolaus. “Have him meet us in the guest quarters. And tell Jason we have company.”

Nodding, Iolaus turned and ran ahead, his mind in a whirl. There were days, he thought, when he just wished he had stayed dead. It was so much easier that way. He didn’t bother to explain to Jason or to Neron, the Academy’s healer, who it was that Hercules was bringing, just that he had found a sick man who needed help. When Hercules arrived a few minutes later, his burden held gently in his great arms, a bed was prepared and Neron was waiting, a tray of medicines in his hands.

As Hercules laid the sick man down, Jason leaned forward, started to say something, stopped, and looked questioningly at Iolaus. Iolaus shrugged. 

“We don’t know where he came from but he says his name is Iolaus. And no, he doesn’t seem to be that Iolaus.”

“You two,” muttered Jason as he watched the physician examine the sick man, “are more trouble than you’re worth some days.”

Neron finished his examination quickly. Iolaus had told him what to expect and he already had vial of a medicine handy. He woke the sick Iolaus and persuaded him to drink the medicine, then built up a pile of pillows so that he could sit up. After he finished his ministrations, the healer pulled the three men aside and spoke quietly.

“He’s dying,” Neron said simply. “He won’t live more than a few weeks, days even. All I can do is make him comfortable.” The old centaur looked sharply at Iolaus. “If he is your kinsman, I suggest you gather the rest of the family. He’ll need a funeral soon.” 

“Can we talk to him?” Hercules asked.

“You can try. I’m going to get him some soup. He looks as if he hasn’t had a decent meal in years.” With that, Neron left.

The three men all walked slowly to the bedside and stared at the man lying there. He sensed their eyes on him and opened them. Against the dark circles around them, his fever bright eyes were impossibly blue.

“Yes?” he said, sounding amused.

Hercules asked the obvious questions. “Where are you from and how did you get here?”

The sick Iolaus sighed. “I don’t know if I could explain. Would you believe me if I told you there are. . .other worlds besides your own.”

Hercules nodded. “I know. I’ve visited one. Everyone looked the same as the people in this world but they were often very different. I thought it was the only other world but if you’re here, then there must be at least one other.”

“Ares said there are an infinite number.” The sick Iolaus turned his head and studied first his twin, then the older man standing next to him. “Jason?”

“Yes?”

“In my world, you and I were friends once.”

Jason, who looked uncomfortable at the thought that there were other versions of him, as well as alternate Hercules and Iolaus, replied, “Iolaus and I are friends here.”

Hercules laid his hand on the sick man’s arm to bring his attention back to the demigod. “Why did you leave your world?”

“No choice, really, although I wasn’t supposed to come here.” He shifted, coughing lightly, shaking his head at the panicked look on Hercules’ face. “Ares said there is place between worlds that exists outside of them. Hades wants to use that place to get rid of his enemies. Because Ares saw me, or rather someone who looked like me, in that place once, he thought I might be able to get there more easily than anyone else.” A smile, a shadowed reflection of the smile Hercules knew so well, flashed across the sick man’s face. “Nice to know the God of Wisdom can make mistakes just like the rest of us.”

“Hades is the God of Wisdom?”

Iolaus’ question confused the sick man. “No, Ares. Hades is the God of War.”

“In our world,” explained Hercules, “Ares is the God of War. Hades is the God of the Underworld”

The sick man frowned. “Ares--my Ares--said something a god with his face but not his wisdom.”

The healthy Iolaus couldn’t help snickering. “Sounds like our Ares all right.”

“So,” said Hercules softly, “Your gods wanted you to check out this place even in your condition?”

“Unless gods are different in this world, they don’t usually care what happens to unimportant mortals like me.”

Hercules expression was grim, as was his voice. “No, they usually don’t. Still, I’m glad you didn’t get stuck in the middle. I’ve been there and it isn’t a very pleasant place.” He managed a smile. “As long as you’re here, we might as well make you welcome.”

His voice little more than a whisper, the sick man said, “Thank you,” and closed his eyes.

Hercules carefully tucked the blanket around the man and stood up as Neron entered the room, a bowl of soup in his hand.

“I’ll feed my patient now,” said the centaur firmly, folding his legs under himself so he could kneel next to the bed. “and you three can go elsewhere.”

Hercules, Jason and Iolaus were brave men but not foolish. They took the healer’s advice and left him holding a spoon to the lips of the sick Iolaus.

“Well,” said Iolaus, pausing in an empty classroom. He sat on the edge of a table and looked up at his friends.

“Well.” Jason sat on a bench, his fingers idly tracing the letters carved into it.

“Well.” Hercules paced over to the blackboard, noticing which ever student had been working there last had made several mistakes in his sums. “We seem to have a visitor.”

Jason said, “He’s welcome to stay as long as. . .well, he’s welcome to stay. We’ll put him in one of the guest houses, away from the school, for the sake of the children. Neron will give him the best care possible until . . .”

His voice flat, Iolaus finished for him. “Until he’s dead. Wonder what effect that will have on me. And fish boy.”

Hercules, his back to his friends, smiled. He knew Iolaus was a little jealous of his counterpart, so briefly in this world and already happily married. “Not much,” said Hercules, turning to face the other two. “This new Iolaus wasn’t in the middle when you died last time and it obviously didn’t kill him. Maybe we were wrong about that all along.”

“I’m glad he’s here.” 

Both men looked at Jason, surprised. 

“Poor guy hasn’t been well treated lately, it’s obvious. He may be dying but he’ll be dying in a clean bed, with someone taking care of him.” Jason set his jaw. “He may not be an Iolaus we know but he deserves better than what he got where he was.”

“I wonder,” said Iolaus, staring into space, “what you are like in his world?”

***

Hercules rocked back on his heels as the vortex closed around the thief. Beside him, Ares and Hades dropped their arms. The wind had died instantly with the disappearance of the vortex, taking Iolaus with it.

“Well?” said Hades impatiently.

Ares smiled beatifically. “Now we wait. I must observe to see if he arrived at his destination. It may take some time before we see him. The angle of view is narrow and the place seems to be large.”

“Fine.” Hades dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Let me know. Come on, Hercules.”

Hercules followed his patron back into the main temple, where Hades took his usual spot on his throne. Also as usual, Hercules paced slowly around the sanctuary.

“Hades?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure this is such a good idea?” 

Hades shrugged. “I don’t know. If it works, it works. I was mostly going along for Ares’ sake. He gets these wild ideas that no one understands and get upset when no one wants to listen to him lecture.” Hades grinned. “It’s not common knowledge but all the gods take turns putting up with Ares for a few months at a time, just so no one is stuck with him for long. Only time everyone on Olympus cooperates.”

Hercules shook his head. “I only hope Ares isn’t messing with something bigger than he is. I’d hate to think what would happen if that whirlwind thing got stuck open.”

“As long as it sucked Ares in first, I don’t care. Now, tell me about this new warlord, what’s his name, Joxer?”’

***

He wasn’t in prison. Even though he wasn’t entirely awake, he could tell that he was sitting in a comfortable bed, cushions behind easing the ache in his back that his illness brought on. He could even breath fairly easily. Then he remembered. Gods. Whirlwinds. And a centaur feeding him chicken soup. Iolaus the thief opened his eyes.

The room was large and well appointed, with two beds on the opposite sides of a well polished floor. There are heavy linen hangings on the window, a pair of carved stools on either side of a sturdy table, and a man in a pale yellow shirt, sitting on the edge of the table, staring at him.

“Halo,” said Iolaus. 

“Halo,” replied Hercules. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.” The thief smiled. “But believe me, I’ve felt worse.”

“You’ve been in chains.” 

“Prisoners often are.”

“What were you in prison for?”

Iolaus considered lying to this man but decided there was no point. It wasn’t as if this Hercules could send him back to King Menellaus’ prison.

“I am. . .was a thief. Up until a couple of years ago, I was a pretty good one. Then I made the mistake of trusting a very pretty lady with long strawberry blonde hair and big green eyes. Ladies are a weakness of mine.”

Hercules smiled. “Seems to be a mutual weakness. My Iolaus is quite the ladies man.”

“We can’t help it, you know, handsome devils that we are.”

“Are you up to answering a few questions?”

“Sure. But all I can do is try to tell you what Ares. . .the God of Wisdom. . .told me and I’m not sure I understand any of it.”

Hercules pulled a stool closer to the bed. Apparently, he wasn’t afraid of contracting Iolaus’ disease. Up close, Iolaus noticed there were differences between this Hercules and the one he knew. Aside from the clothes and the haircut, this man seemed a good deal friendlier. Maybe it was because he wasn’t carrying any visible weapon but Iolaus felt very relaxed. Or maybe it was just because Iolaus was clean, in a comfortable bed, in a nice room, with the hope that when he died in this world, the god of the afterlife, whoever that was, wouldn’t know him and would let him into the Elysian Fields.

Outside the window, Iolaus paced, trying to listen to some of what his counterpart was telling Hercules. Something about spheres and threads. None of it made sense to Iolaus.

He wasn’t sure why he was so bothered by the existence of this third version of himself but he was. He had never really met that other Iolaus, the one who spent several months with Hercules while the real Iolaus was dead. He wasn’t sure if even wanted to meet him. Hercules hadn’t suggested it and Iolaus hadn’t asked. But why would this man, this dying--from the overheard conversation--thief, disturb the warrior so much? Was it because this other Iolaus reflected some part of Iolaus he didn’t want to admit to? 

No, that didn’t make sense. Iolaus stopped under the window, trying to catch the weak voice of his twin--no, triplet. He hadn’t know the sick man was a thief until this minute. The other man’s dishonest nature didn’t trouble Iolaus. His very existence did. Iolaus had felt uncomfortable the instant he saw his face on the other man.

Because he was dying? Iolaus considered that. Was he afraid that the death of that man would cause his death? Iolaus shook his head. No, he felt, with absolute certainty, that when the thief died, Iolaus would live on. Was it the attention Hercules was paying to this other Iolaus?

Now there was a place Iolaus didn’t want to go. He was willing to admit a slight jealousy over the other Iolaus, the one who had helped Hercules over the loss of his best friend, the one who had found true love in only a few months and was now married to the Sea King’s daughter, but this man was a total stranger. Hercules was only talking to him now because they needed to know if these other gods were in any way a threat.

The voices fell silent. Iolaus risked peering into the room, checking to see if Hercules was pulling the blanket up over the other man’s face. He wasn’t. Hercules was leaving the room and the sick man appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

So why, Iolaus asked himself, do you feel like jumping out of your skin?

“Iolaus?”

At the sound of his friend’s voice, Iolaus nearly did jump. It was with considerable effort he turned around, keeping his expression calm and neutral. “Yeah, Herc.”

“I’m going to do some work in the library. I think there are some scrolls there that talk about infinite worlds.”

“Fine, fine.” Iolaus suddenly made up his mind. “I think I’ll go hunting.” Perfect, something more physical than fishing that would take his mind off whatever was bothering him.

“Fine. See you later.”

Iolaus spent the day in the forest above the Academy, a bow slung over his back, a quiver on his hip, not really hunting, just losing himself in the chase, finding and tracking, moving silently through the woods, practicing those arts of his that were sadly underused these days. He finally brought down a brace of partridges and some hare just to justify his efforts, walking back to the Academy as darkness fell.

He was just about to enter the gates to the main complex when he heard someone running hard behind him. Iolaus turned, ready for an attack, and saw a boy, one of the students, panting. 

“Sir?” He was looking very confused in addition to being out of breath. “Have you seen Hercules?”

“Not since just after noon. Why?”

“Well, there’s someone. . .” The boy was gnawing his lip, obviously at a loss. “You should see.”

Dropping his catch, Iolaus followed the boy, who was babbling something about being out picking mushrooms, when he came across this. . .person. Iolaus didn’t have to ask. They hadn’t gone very far when Iolaus saw, staggering towards him in the moonlight, a small man who had plainly had a great deal to drink. The man was unable to keep a straight line as he walked down the path. He was muttering to himself, swinging his arms in an effort to maintain his balance. Although he was still several paces away, Iolaus could smell the cheap wine.

“Hey!” Iolaus called out to the drunk, who raised his head to stare blearily back. Even in the distortion of the moonlight, even with the unshaven stubble and the hair falling into the face, Iolaus recognized the man.

“Get Hercules,” he commanded the boy. “Try the library. But find him!”

“Yes, sir!” The boy was gone in a flash.

The drunk managed a few more lurching paces before he stopped, squinting. Raising at trembling hand, the drunk spoke, his voice slurred, “Do I know you? Of course I do, you’re an old friend, aren’t you? You look damn familiar anyway.” He giggled. “I’m sure you’re an old friend and I’m sure you’d like to buy me a drink.”

Iolaus could barely make himself speak to this wreck of a man. Where had this Iolaus come from? “I think, my friend, you have had enough.”

The drunken Iolaus laid his finger against his nose and laughed. “Oh no. There is never enough. You look like an intelligent man. Surely you know that?”

Iolaus, hating to do it, took a step closer to the man. “Do I look like an old friend? Are you sure? Did you look closely?”

The drunk, who had let his head drop again, raised it. Clearly, he was having trouble focusing his eyes. He closed one, then the other, rocking his head back from shoulder to shoulder, mumbling to himself as he did it.

“You’re not Ajax. Ajax always lectures me. You’re not tall enough for Iphhic. . .Hipi. . .Iphicles.” The man leaned forward. “Wait, you do look awfully familiar. Who in the name of all the gods. . .”

Iolaus sensed rather than heard Hercules come up behind him. He knew the drunk had seen Hercules, too, because as the drunk raised his head, his eyes went wide in horror. He held one shaking hand out towards the man behind Iolaus before shrieking, “Don’t haunt me!” just before his knees gave out and he collapsed to the ground.

Neither Iolaus nor Hercules said anything. Hercules picked up the drunk, trying hard not to wrinkle his nose, and they walked quickly back towards the Academy.

Jason, his face grim, met them at the guest house, directing Hercules to lay his burden on the couch by the fire in the sitting room. He knew what to do with this Iolaus. He got a bucket from Neron, a pile of rags and cold water, and told Hercules and Iolaus to wait outside. After an hour or so, this Iolaus groaned and rolled over, retching. Jason held his head, then wiped his face. The bloodshot blue eyes opened.

“Jason?”

“Yes.”

Tears welled up in the drunkard’s eyes. He turned away from the older man, whimpering. “I’m sorry. I never wanted you to see me like this. I know how you must feel about me. A former Argonaut, reduced to this.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Jason, holding cup of willowbark tea out for the other man. “I’m more sympathetic about some things than I look.”

Iolaus refused the tea, curling up on his side and sobbing. “No one should have sympathy for me. Not after what I’ve done.”

“What did you do that was so terrible you’ve had to punish yourself like this?”

“You know! I failed him! I let him die and now. . .now he haunts me!”

Jason sighed. “Iolaus, I know this is going to be hard for you to understand but things aren’t quite the way you think.”

“Aren’t they?” Iolaus wiped his nose on his filthy sleeve. “I wasn’t there and he died. If I had been there. . .” His voice trailed off in a hiccup.

“Iolaus.” Jason used his firmest, most commanding voice. It worked. The other man sat up, still hiccuping miserably, but at least he was paying attention. “Something happened to you. Do you remember a whirlwind?”

Iolaus started to shake his head, then thought it over. “I remember a cold wind and then I was spinning around and then I was on the ground. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes. That wind was from the gods. I can’t explain it any better than to just tell you that it snatched you up from your world and brought you here, to this world.”

His expression one of considerable doubt, Iolaus looked up at Jason. His voice was surprisingly steady as he said, “What have you been drinking because it must be good stuff?”

“I don’t drink anymore, Iolaus. And I’m telling the truth. You are in a different world, a world in which Hercules isn’t dead. Everyone here looks the same but we’re all different in some ways.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Iolaus reached for the tea he had been offered earlier and sniffed it, then took a sip, making a face at the bitter taste.

Jason stood up. “I can prove it.” He crossed the room and opened the door, speaking to whoever was waiting outside. Then he stood back and let Hercules and Iolaus enter. For a heartbeat, the drunkard started at the other two, then he closed his eyes, waving his hands as if to dispel smoke.

“No,” he gasped hoarsely. “No.”

“In his world,” Jason explained, “Hercules is dead. I haven’t gotten the details but apparently he blames himself, which accounts for his condition.”

The man had lurched to his feet, backing away from Hercules and Iolaus. His eyes were open now and both men could see the terror in them. He was muttering and trembling. 

“Iolaus.” Hercules spoke the familiar name softly. “I know you must be confused but what Jason said is true. You are no longer in your world.”

Iolaus added helpfully, “But you’re not on the other side. You’re not dead!”

“No, no, no,” muttered the drunkard, still waving his hands as if to dissolve his vision. “You’re dead. I’m sorry I failed you. I am so sorry.” He started to weep again. As he reached the wall, he slid down it, curling into a ball, still crying and apologizing.

“I think you better go,” said Jason wearily. “I don’t think he’s quite sober enough to handle it but it’s a start.”

“You’re sure?” Hercules hated to see anyone suffer, let alone someone who looked so much like his friend.

“I’m sure. Go. I’ll talk to him.” A grim smile flickered on Jason’s face. “I know how drunks think.”

They left, Hercules giving one last backwards glance of pity to the man curled up on the floor.

“By all the gods,” muttered Iolaus, rubbing his hands over his face. “I think he’s worse than the sick one.”

“Poor guy.” He laid his hand on Iolaus’ shoulder. “I know how he feels. I’m the one who keeps getting left behind, you know.”

“Yeah, but. . .” Iolaus waved his hand towards the door to the room where Jason tended this latest version of himself. “I like to think even if something happened to you, I wouldn’t end up like that. Then again, if he thinks he failed you. . .” Iolaus voice trailed off unhappily. 

“Let’s go talk to. . .” Hercules stopped, uncertain as to how to refer to the other Iolaus. Now there were three, no four, in this world and it was getting complicated.

Iolaus finished the sentence. “Let’s go talk to the thief. If he’s awake, he’s a good deal more coherent than that drunk.”

The thief was awake, sitting up in his bed, staring out the window. When the two men entered, he smiled briefly at them and said, “The stars seem to be exactly the same.”

Hercules took a stool and pulled it over close to the sickbed. Iolaus remained on the other side of the room, leaning against the other bed. 

“We have another visitor,” said Hercules. 

“Another Iolaus?”

“Yes. I don’t suppose you know of another Iolaus from your world?”

The thief shook his head. “Not one that looks like me, no.”

“Do you think your gods have sent him here on purpose?”

“I think,” replied the thief, “that your latest Iolaus’ arrival is as much as an accident as mine.” He frowned. “Ares said something about a world being out-of-balance because there were two of--for lack of a better word--me in it.” He looked over at Iolaus, who was fidgeting with his amulet, running his finger along the broken edge. “Is this that world?”

It was Hercules who answered. “Yes. It’s a long story but there is another Iolaus, from a different world, living here.”

Curious, the thief asked, “Where?”

“He’s a fish,” said Iolaus, looking up for a moment. “Sort of.”

Hercules shot his friend an irritated glance before explaining to the thief about Iolaus falling in love with Nautica and being allowed to marry her. As he told the story, Hercules noticed that the expression on the thief’s face was identical to the one Iolaus had had when hearing the story for the first time: baffled, amused, and not entirely believing the story. The thief shook his head and laughed softly, which made him cough for a few moments. When he had regained control, he started to explain about Ares describing a funnel that he might fit in.

“Suppose,” the thief said, leaning forward, his expression thoughtful and intent, “that this world was already a little, shall we say, Iolaus heavy, because there were two of them here. Then I arrived and now there are three. Maybe the. . .abundance of Iolauses. . .Iolausi?. . .has created some sort slippery slope and all of us are going to pool here the bottom.”

Iolaus dropped his amulet, the expression on his face one of horror. “Do you think? Herc?”

“Maybe not.” Hercules started fidgeting with the laces on his gauntlet, not noticing the smile that crossed the thief’s face. “Maybe the arrival of . . .”

Iolaus completed the sentence. “The drunk.”

The thief raised his eyebrows at his counterpart. Iolaus explained, “He’s a lush. Showed up stewed to the gills and he looks like he’s been on a bender for the last ten years.”

“Charming. You must be delighted to find out that other versions of yourself are dying thieves and lousy drunks.”

Very dryly, Iolaus said, “Charmed. Oh, yeah.”

“Maybe,” Hercules exclaimed, “there is a balance now. You. . .” He pointed to his Iolaus, “are balanced by the other Iolaus. And now you. . .” He pointed back to the thief, “are balanced by the latest addition.”

“You’d better hope so,” replied the thief, leaning back against the pillows, “ or the alternative is a world full of Iolausi. If there really are an infinite number of worlds, than there may be an infinite number of us. I know you like us, Hercules, but do you really want to live in a Greece full coast to coast with Iolauses?”

Hercules looked shocked by the thought but it was Iolaus who reacted more violently. He swore, slamming his hand against the edge of the bed.

“This has got to stop!” He shouted and stormed out of the room.

Iolaus started to run, out of the guest house and away from the Academy, running with nowhere to go except away. The moon had set and he soon had to stop, panting, in the dark shelter of some trees.

This was insane! How could there be this many of him and why were they all such losers? It was bad enough knowing that there was a version of himself who was a ridiculous, cowardly jester but to actually see these counterparts, this failed thief and this guilt ridden drunkard, was more than he could stand.

Iolaus leaned his head against the trunk of the tree and stared up into the night sky, automatically finding north. So the stars were the same. Did that mean souls were the same? He knew how easily he could have remained a thief, like the dying man. Iolaus knew, without Hercules in his life, that’s exactly what he would have been. Without Hercules, he might have ended up in prison, with the scars of prison manacles on his wrists, dying lonely and unloved. 

But suppose he had known Hercules. Suppose he had failed him, had not been there to guard his friend’s back. Would the guilt of that failure driven him to drown his sorrows in cheap wine? Hercules had lost him, more than once, and while he had been saddened and angry, he hadn’t become a pitiful drunkard.

Is that what I am? Iolaus thought, his head in his hands. Without Hercules, I’m either a criminal or a failure. Or, since the thief had been in prison, a failed criminal. Iolaus felt sick. 

“Iolaus?”

Iolaus didn’t respond. He raised his head enough to see Hercules standing a few feet away, silhouetted against the stars. Iolaus knew if he stayed very still, Hercules couldn’t see him and his friend would move on, looking elsewhere. Not that that would help.

“I’m here, Herc.”

“This is so. . .weird.”

Iolaus had to laugh, both at Hercules’ choice of words and the confused tone in his voice.

“What if he’s right?” Iolaus stood up and walked over to his friend’s side, looking up at his face. It was too dark to see much of Hercules’ expression but Iolaus knew him well enough to guess what it would be. “What if an infinite number of me just keep dropping out of the heavens every day. Or twice a day, since we got two today. Aside from the problem of what to call thousands of guys all with the same name, where would we all live? I mean, the thief isn’t a problem, he’s going to be giving Hades the shock of a lifetime in a few days when he shows up on the other side but we have to do something with that idiot drunk . . .”

Hercules interrupted his friend. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Iolaus ran his hands through his hair as he turned his head to stare back down the hill towards the Academy. “We both know, without you keeping me on the straight and narrow, I’d be a crook.” Hercules started to say something but Iolaus continued. “And apparently, if I’m not a crook, I’m a drunk or a coward. Lovely to know I have such potential.”

“Iolaus. . .”

“Without you, Herc, it appears I am one big miserable failure.”

Hercules grabbed his friend suddenly by the shoulder of his vest and gave him a shake. “So your alter egos aren’t heroes, big deal. Remember the Sovereign? I can’t get too thrilled thinking about what part of me is in him.”

“Yeah but at least he was a successful nutcase. I seem to be destined for failure.”

“Oh, for. . .” Hercules managed a weak laugh as he put his arm around Iolaus’ shoulders. “Look, this is bizarre but we’ll get it taken care of. And I do know how you feel, seeing your own face on someone you hate. It’s not pleasant.”

“No.” Iolaus leaned against his friend for a moment for comfort. “I hope the next Iolaus is an improvement.”


	2. And then there were lots

***

They were waiting, Iolaus sitting on the ground, idly weaving a long chain out of stalks of grass. Hercules was standing, facing the other direction, looking down at the Academy, thinking about the thief and the drunkard. He hated to categorize them that way but the only alternative was to think of them as Iolaus number three and Iolaus number four and that didn’t seem any better.

When the wind started to blow, Iolaus stood up, brushing his hands on his trousers, waiting. Hercules turned around, squinting into the wind.

“Damn,” muttered Iolaus as the vortex formed a short distance away and a figure came spinning out of it.

They ran forward, stopping suddenly when an unexpected sound reached their ears, the sound of small child crying. 

This new Iolaus stood up, holding a child in his arms. He was comforting her, saying softly, “It’s all right, baby, daddy’s here. Shhh, don’t cry Mene.”

Iolaus number five was much better dressed than either the thief or the drunk. He was wearing a dark blue cloak over a grey blouse and black trousers. His hair was long, hanging below his shoulders, held back by a gold clasp. He was obviously wealthier than any previous version, because in addition to the clasp in his hair, he had a an ornate gold brooch pin, set with garnets, holding his cloak at the shoulder and instead of gauntlets, he wore wide beaten copper bracelets on his wrists. The overall impression was a plump, prosperous Iolaus who didn’t sleep on the ground and hunt his own food but an Iolaus who slept every night in a comfortable bed and hadn’t missed a meal in a long time.

He glanced up from calming the child and saw Hercules. He started to smile and say something when he caught sight of a very grim faced Iolaus.

“Hercules. Orestes?”

Hercules answered, “Ah, no. I’m Hercules but he’s not Orestes.”

The fifth Iolaus frowned. “If you’re not my cousin Orestes, then who are you?”

“Iolaus. My name is Iolaus.”

“I see.” He looked intently at Hercules, his frown deepening. He began to turn away, obviously intending to protect his child, his free hand going towards a dagger on his belt. “You’re not the Hercules I know.”

“No, I’m not. And you’ll have to be patient because this is very complicated.”

****

As Jason entered the sick room, he was surprised to see the thief standing at the window.

"We have a new member of our little club." said this Iolaus, turning from the window so Jason could see. "He looks to be a family man."

Jason glanced out and saw Hercules and the man he thought of as 'his' Iolaus standing next to another Iolaus, this one dressed in a long cloak and holding in his arms a child.

"You don't think the child came through the vortex with him, do you?" asked Jason, his voice sounding horrified.

The thief, who was easing himself back into bed, shrugged. "Looks that way to me. You know, if Hercules doesn't do something soon, this Greece is going to be lousy with Iolauses. And, apparently, the children of Iolaus, too."

The thief watched the former king of Corinth as the older man stared outside. 

"Jason?"

Jason turned, being startled again by how fragile this Iolaus looked, his pale skin tight over his skull. It didn't need a professional healer to predict this man's demise. His death shone from his eyes.

"Why doesn't Hercules just appeal to the gods? Since it was a God of Wisdom who got us into this mess, why doesn't Hercules just ask your God of Wisdom for help? Hercules is the son of a god, isn't he?"

"Yes, but he doesn't get along very well with the gods in this world. I think he'd prefer to come up with a solution on his own."

The thief sighed, shifting against the pillows. "Well, he better hurry up. I mean, I'll be dead soon enough but what about accommodations for the rest of us."

Jason stepped forward, helping the thief arrange the pillows, until the man sank back against them, eyes closed. Jason was going to leave the room when those eyes opened again.

"So," said that voice that was almost familiar, "how come you're not a king anymore?"

"I abdicated so I could marry a woman who wasn't of royal blood."

The thief grinned, another echo of the Iolaus Jason knew so well. "Romantic, eh? Good for you." He cleared his throat. "Do you mind talking to me? I've been alone a lot lately and having someone to talk to is a relief." He didn't add, although both men knew it, that a conversation took his mind off his dying.

Jason pulled a stool up closer to the sick bed. "I don't mind talking. Usually, with my Iolaus, it's hard to get a word in edgewise. So the Jason you knew was a king, too."

"Hmmm. Actually, when I knew him, he was the younger brother of the king. He didn't get to be king until later, after his brother died."

"Did you rob the royal treasury?"

The thief laughed softly, the sound turning into a cough that he managed to control with obvious effort. "No, believe it or not, I was one of the loyal followers of Prince Jason when he went in search of the Ruby Fleece."

"Ruby Fleece?" Jason shook his head. All these alternate worlds were confusing him. "Here it was the Golden Fleece."

The thief grinned. "Probably more attractive. The Ruby Fleece looked as if it were soaked it blood."

"So," asked Jason, settling himself comfortably on the stool, his back against the wall, "How come a thief like yourself was an Argonaut?"

"A woman."

"Ah."

"She was beautiful and respectable and I stupidly fell in love with her even though I knew it was hopeless." The thief's voice was soft, his eyes half closed as he remembered. "The call had gone out for men willing to risk their lives in an impossible quest. Fool for love, fool for everything I guess." He chuckled, coughed, and spoke again. "And there was an opening for someone who knew how to open locks. I volunteered."

"You were successful, I take it."

"Oh, yeah." He shook his head. It had been so long ago, more than half his lifetime. What would his life had been like if that voyage had ended differently?

"When I got back, I went straight to the house of the woman. I was honored, a hero, a friend of the royal house of Corinth. And when I showed up at her door, her brother tried to kill me."

He touched the scar under his chin. "You went with me," Iolaus said, forgetting which Jason he was talking to. "To prove to the world that I was fit to marry the daughter of respectable rug merchant. What I didn't know was that I had left that respectable young woman with child." His voice dropped to a mere whisper, barely audible even in the quiet room. "She realized it a couple of months after we left. She went to a midwife to try to get rid of it before her family found out but something went wrong." Iolaus shifted on the pillows. "She died. She was dead barely two months after we sailed. By the time we got back, she'd been in her grave for over a year."

Jason leaned forward, his hand resting lightly on the blanket at the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry."

Iolaus the thief shrugged. "Don't be. It was a long, long time ago and let's face it, even if she had lived, I would have made a terrible husband." 

"Did your Jason punish her brother?"

"No. I wouldn't let him. I deserved to have my throat cut for what I did to that poor girl and I don't mean just getting her pregnant. I never should have had anything to do with her, not someone like me."

"Did you stay friends with your Jason?"

"For a while. But once my throat healed. . ." The thief's voice drifted off for a moment. "I was what I was. I left one night. Not long after, Jason's brother died and he became king. I saw him once, years later, I was in Corinth and he was presiding over a trial of some nobleman who hadn't paid the proper taxes. He looked old and unhappy and I realized I was better off than he was."

Suddenly, remembering who he was speaking to, Iolaus sat up and started to apologize. "I don't mean you're like that."

"No." Jason smiled. "And I'm not a king anymore."

Voices drifted into the sick room. Iolaus tilted his head towards the door. "Where's the drunk?"

"Still sleeping it off."

"When he wakes up, if he doesn't mind sharing a room, you might put him in that bed. I think you're going to be hard pressed for space if Hercules doesn't come up with something soon."

"If you need to anything. . ."

Iolaus sank back against the cushions as the former king left. What had his gods gotten all these other poor innocents into?

***

Iolaus frowned as he shifted his daughter from one arm to the other. If anyone else had told him this ridiculous story, he would have thought them lunatics but this man who looked so much like the Hercules he knew, and his partner, a man with his own face, made the story hard to deny.

"So. . ." He took a deep breath. His daughter wanted down and he finally set her on the floor between his knees as he sat on the bench facing these two men with their incredible tale. "I'm the fifth Iolaus in this world."

They had shown him two other men, both asleep, and both with his face. The mer version of himself lived in the sea so he wasn't available. Iolaus shook his head. Either he had gone mad that morning or he really truly was in another world.

"I'm sorry," said this other Hercules and Iolaus found himself smiling. He sounded just like the Hercules he knew, taking responsibility for everything.

"Hardly your fault," said the newest Iolaus, holding out his hand so his daughter could keep a tight grip on one finger as she walked a few toddling steps towards the other Iolaus. The other Iolaus, the one who apparently belonged in this world, was staring at the little girl with obvious delight and fascination. Did he have a daughter, too? "I mean, from what you said, it was the gods of another world who caused this mess."

Hercules sighed. "It was and it's time I talked to the gods of this world to see if we can straighten this out. Don't worry, I promise we'll get you home."

Iolaus smiled reassuringly at this Hercules. "If you're anything like the Hercules I know, you'll take care of it. I'm not worried."

Hercules stood up, nodding once to the new Iolaus before turning to his Iolaus and saying, "I'm going to see Athena." His voice was grim. "We have got to stop this."

Iolaus nodded. It was one thing to drag grown men out of their worlds but now a child had been added and that was too much. Hercules strode out of the room just as hand touched Iolaus on the knee. He looked down, into blue eyes, wide beneath white blonde curls.

He bent down to her level, unable to stop smiling. She smiled back. Even though he felt bad about bringing this child into his world, it was nice to see a version of himself who seemed to have done all right in his life.

"So, does your Hercules blame himself every time you get a head cold?"

Iolaus looked up at the girl's father, shrugging and grinning. "Yeah, pretty much. He makes Atlas look like a lightweight."

The two men smiled at each other. The girl reached up to touch the medallion around Iolaus' neck, tugging on it.

"Ah, I hate to bring this up but I don't suppose you have any spare diapers. I was only going to be away from the house for a few minutes and didn't bring any with me. She's only sixteen months old and not even close to potty trained."

Iolaus looked up in horror. At his expression, the fifth Iolaus laughed. 

"I'll ask Neron. He must have some bandages. Ah, sweetie, I need that back." Carefully, he disengaged his medallion from the little girl's determined grip and stood up. "I'll be back in a minute."

A moment after he left, an older man came in to the room. Iolaus raised his eyebrows.

"Jason?"

The older man gave him an ironic smile. "Same face, same name. I assume you're Iolaus." He looked down at the little girl as she walked over towards him. "And who is this?"

"Mene." 

"Hello, Mene. Aren't you beautiful?"

The girl grinned up at him with the Iolaus smile. She waved and babbled a happy greeting.

"I take it we know each other?"

Iolaus laughed at Jason's reaction. "Yes, you could say that. You're her honorary grandfather in my world. Both her real ones are dead and since you were married to her namesake, you got the job."

"Ah." He squatted down as Iolaus had earlier so he could look her in the eye. This seemed to please the little girl, who giggled. "So her full name is Alcmene."

"Yes. My own mother. . .left when I was a child and Alcmene did everything she could to take her place. She was a wonderful woman."

Jason stroked the soft curls on top of the child's head. "So, she's gone in your world, too."

"Just after Mene was born."

The two men shared a glance. Odd. They were total strangers, really, but both had a moment of mutual sorrow for the same soul, if not the same woman.

Iolaus bounded back in the door, a stack of neatly folded linens in his hand. He gave them to his counterpart.

"Will these do?" 

Iolaus took them and nodded. "Perfect." He scooped his daughter up carefully and laid her on the table."

Jason stood up. "I better check on our other guest." He left to the other guest room.

While Iolaus watched, this newest version of himself changed the baby with speed and dexterity that amazed him.

"You've done that before," he remarked, handing his counterpart the bucket with a lid that the practical centaur had provided with the linens.

"I've done it a quite a few times before," the child's father replied as he sat his daughter up and gave her hug. "There are four more at home."

"Four!"

Iolaus sat down, setting his child on his knees, letting her play with his bracelets. 

"There's Skouros, he's named after my father, well, your father, too, I suppose." Since he was keeping an eye on his child, he never saw the look that flickered across the face of the other Iolaus. "He's seven. Ilea, she's named after my mother-in-law, she's five. The twins, Hercules and Iphicles, are three and Mene here is not quite a year and a half."

"Twins! That must be fun."

Iolaus smiled fondly. "They are. . .challenging."

"Well, you name kids after Herc and Iphicles, what do you expect?"

Iolaus laughed. "I know. I was asking for it. It's just. . .when they were born, they were so small, that the midwife said I should pick names I didn't like much since they were sure to die. So, I gave them the names of the two biggest, strongest men I knew." He looked up, startled again to see that face so like his own. "I may come to regret that decision but they are alive and well."

There was an awkward pause until Iolaus said, "So, what do you do to support five kids?" He didn't add, and support them well, from the looks of you.

The other Iolaus picked up the bracelet his daughter had discarded and tossed it across the room. "I'm a gold, silver and coppersmith. After I gave up soldiering around with Herc and Iphicles, I went back to blacksmithing. Then I met my wife and started fooling around making her some jewelry and discovered I'm good at it."

Iolaus studied the bracelet in his hand. It was beautifully made, perfectly balanced and curved, every mark of the hammer precise and exact. "No kidding," he said, turning the object over his hands. "This is nice work."

The other Iolaus pointed to his cloak. "That's a new one I just made. I'm experimenting with a new way to roll the gold."

Iolaus removed the golden pin and examined it as he had the other piece. "Nice granulation." He held it close to his eyes. "Really nice. I've never seen anything like it. How do you do it?"

"Lots of practice. One of the first things I made for Deianaira when we were courting was a brooch and whenever she wears it now, I wince. What?"

Iolaus had raised his head from the jewelry in his hand to stare at the other man. "Did you say Deianaira? Tall, long curly fair hair? Gorgeous?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Swallowing, Iolaus wondered if he could explain. Looking at the little girl, who was now sitting on the floor, rolling her father's bracelet back and forth between her chubby hands, he could see the resemblance to his Hercules' long dead daughter. 

"In this world," Iolaus said slowly, " Deianaira was married to Hercules."

"Really?" His eyes opened wide in astonishment. "Take that out of your mouth, sweetie. It's just that my Hercules isn't much interested in women. Like, not at all."

"Really?" When Iolaus realized he had said exactly the same thing as the metalsmith, in exactly the same tone of voice, he found himself grinning. "This is really, really odd."

"Tell me about it." Iolaus scooped up his daughter, sliding his bracelet back around his wrist to save it from her teeth. "I can't imagine Herc with Deianaira. I don't think he's ever even been with a woman. So," He took a deep breath. "You did say 'was,' didn't you."

Iolaus frowned at the floor, studying the scuffed toes of his boots. "Yeah. It's a long story but she and his three children have been gone for several years now." He scratched the back of his head. "Maybe we shouldn't mention your wife's name to him, you think?"

"You may be right." There was another long pause while the two men didn't look at each other before the baby made an unhappy sound and yanked at her father's hair. "Say, we missed breakfast. Do you suppose we could get something to eat around here?" 

***  
Athena frowned, studying Hercules as he carefully told her all the details of his plight. She asked him questions and he tried, as best he could, to explain what the thief had explained to him. When he finished, the Goddess of Wisdom stood up from her throne and paced across the white marble floor of her temple.

"He said Ares was God of Wisdom in this world?"

Hercules sighed and rubbed his temples. His headache had started the moment the first vortex had opened on the hill above the Academy and it hadn't gotten any better in the ensuing day and a half.

"I told you," he replied, making an effort not to sound petulant. 

"It just seems unlikely."

"Look, if he could be the God of Love in the Sovereign's world, why not the God of Wisdom in some other world?"

Athena shook her head. "I can almost imagine him as God of Love but Wisdom. . ." Her voice trailed off. When she saw how miserable Hercules was, she reached over and laid a delicate hand on his shoulder.

"You know, as your problems with Iolaus go, this one isn't so bad."

Hercules looked up at his sister, trying to smile. "You mean instead of his dying, I'm getting extras. Yeah, it could be worse but it's still hardly fair to these other men. The one who arrived this morning had a child with him." Now Hercules did smile, remembering the little girl peeking shyly at him from her father's embrace. 

Smiling, Athena brushed Hercules' hair back from his brow. "If she was Iolaus' daughter, I imagine she is adorable. How old is she?"

"She is adorable and I suppose about a year and a half." His eyes pleaded with Athena. "She should be home with her mother."

Athena paced the length of the room, obviously thinking very seriously. "We might be able to close the vortex. We might even be able to send these other men back. But there is a problem." She sighed. "After that unfortunate incident. . ."

"You mean when you all ran away from Dahak and tried to hide in the Sovereign's world and Ares managed to trap you there?"

Athena's lips tightened. "Yes. That." Neither she nor Hercules said it but she knew that all the gods except Ares still owed him a debt for his saving them. "After that, we all agreed that no one could open a doorway to another world without the agreement of all the major deities."

Hercules groaned and put his head on the table in front of him. The tiles were painted with scenes of scholars at work, copying texts or teaching students. If he looked closely, he could actually watch the tiny figures move. Now he just lay his head against the cool surface, seeking relief. At least Athena had said all the major deities. That left out having to deal with the minor gods, like Pan and Hebe and Discord, who were even worse to try to get together on something than the important ones.

With his head down, Hercules couldn't see the sympathetic look on Athena's face. While she was not one of the gods who had claim to Iolaus, she did like the little blonde man, if only because he was genuinely intelligent, even if he didn't always use his intelligence. She had long ago forgiven him for his foolishness in that ridiculous beauty contest. After all, he was just a man. And Hercules did care for him so very much.

"I'll start right away," she said, patting Hercules on the shoulder. "I can't imagine, under the circumstances, we'll have too much trouble with most of the gods. After all, Aphrodite and Hephaestus and some of the others like Iolaus and will want to help him. And the ones who don't like him would probably be willing to do something to prevent Greece from filling up with hundreds of variations of him."

Hercules caught the unsaid word in her tone. He lifted his head. "But?"

"But we might have trouble with Ares."

Hercules groaned again. "I still can't believe you didn't get together and do something about him after he tried to destroy all of you."

Athena shrugged. "What can I say? We were partly responsible for running away, although I'm the only god I imagine you'll ever get to admit that. Zeus made Ares the way he is, ambitious and ruthless. We can hardly blame him for his own nature anymore than you can find fault with me for being brilliant." A faint smile quirked the edges of her lips. "And we did punish him, don't worry. He won't be trying anything against any of us any time soon." The smile vanished. "But he may be a problem. Maybe I can get Aphrodite or Hephaestus to work on him. He gets along better with them."

"Try," begged Hercules. "Please."

The goddess smiled again. "Don't worry. We will solve this problem. I promise." As she vanished in a flash of silver blue light, Hercules winced. He guessed she was right. Having too many Iolauses was better than too few, especially one in particular, but this was still a damned strange situation to be in.

***  
Jason felt exactly the same way Hercules did. He preferred having extra versions of his friend to losing Iolaus again but the whole idea of dozens of Iolauses, who all seemed to know some version of himself, was still disconcerting.

He had checked on all of them again, finding the thief asleep and the latest version and the man Jason thought of as "his" Iolaus eating a late breakfast and discussing metal work while the beautiful little girl played at their feet. Finally, he had gone to sit next to the drunk, waiting for this sad version of Iolaus to wake up.

He did, slowly, and with obvious discomfort. When he opened his bloodshot eyes and focused them on Jason, he groaned. His voice was a hoarse rasp, unlike the pleasant tenor Jason expected from an Iolaus.

"Not a dream," gasped the drunk, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed so he could sit up.

"Nope." Jason tried to look friendly. The poor man really did look terrible. He obviously hadn't bathed for several days, his hair hanging in greasy strands around an unshaven face. His clothes were torn and badly mended. He wore only a dirty tunic that might have once been green, brown leggings torn at both knees and plain rope sandals like a sailor might wear. He had no gauntlets, no jewelry, no weapons. He looked less like the Iolaus Jason knew than the dying thief. At least that man had a spark in his hollow eyes of a spirit Jason could recognize. This man's eyes, in addition to being red, looked lost and dead.

"How do you feel?"

The drunkard frowned as he considered the question. "Lousy. My head feels like it is about to explode, I ache all over and my stomach is one fire." He lifted his head to look at Jason and for one, fleeting instant, he looked like a proper Iolaus. "But I don't feel like throwing up, which is an improvement."

"Well, then." Jason rubbed his hands together briskly. "How about a bath and something bland to eat. Soda bread used to help my insides during my drinking days."

Sounding incredulous, this Iolaus said, "You drank?"

"I take it I'm more temperate in your world."

"Much more. We were allowed one cup of watered wine per day when we were on the Argo. You tossed a sailor overboard once for dipping into the wine stores. Well, not you. . ."

"I know." Jason managed a wide smile for his companion. "Weird, isn't it?"

The drunk bit his lower lip, his eyes dropping away from Jason's face. "Hercules is alive here, isn't he? Really alive?"

Gently, Jason laid his hands on the man's shoulder. "Yes. And he wants to speak with you."

The man's head came up, stark horror in his expression. "No," he babbled, his whole body starting to shake, "I couldn't. I can't face him. Even if he isn't really my friend, I just can't!"

"Don't worry. He won't force the issue. Now, how about that bath and bread?"

The drunk hesitated, ran his hands through his hair, and nodded.

"Good. This way."

Jason had arranged for everything. Iolaus still looked doubtful but he stripped off his clothes unselfconsciously and stepped into the tub. He sank into it with a sigh.

"I should be grateful," he said, "that you like the Iolaus of this world."

"Do you think that is the only reason I'm being nice to you?"

The drunk tilted his head back and looked at Jason through slitted eyes. "Maybe. Or do you provide bed and board for every drunken stranger who staggers into your life?"

"Well." Jason handed the man a scrub brush. "Actually, you're the first. But there was a time in my life when I needed a friendly hand to pull me out of the bottom of a wine barrel and I guess I'm returning the favor."

Iolaus made no reply but started scrubbing himself thoroughly. Jason knew the feeling. Maybe the hot water and the brush could wash away some of the guilt. While the man bathed, Jason quietly removed the discarded clothing and replaced it with a clean blouse, leggings and sandals. The advantage to all these identical men was Jason was sure the new clothes would fit, since they had fit his Iolaus. He sometimes wore them when visiting the Academy and his own well worn vest and trousers were being cleaned.

Jason handed this Iolaus a freshly stropped razor and small polished bronze mirror. The man frowned at his reflection before setting the razor under his chin.

"So," he said, his voice rather unnatural as he held his chin tight to shave under it. "Why did you take to drink?"

Jason was surprised. Somehow he had expected to ask that question first. He almost didn't answer it, then realized it was only fair. He had the same question about the other man.

"It's a long story but suffice it to say my wife and children died. I didn't handle the grief well because I was partly to blame."

The drunk rinsed the razor as he said, "I let Hercules die and I didn't handle the grief well because I was partly to blame. I don't suppose that will be adequate for you, will it?"

"No." Jason handed Iolaus a towel. "We can trade stories over breakfast if you're interested. Here. Put on these clothes. They should fit."

They sat at the small table, tearing the soda bread between them, drinking the weak herbal tea that Neron had prepared. Iolaus made a face at the taste.

"Some people claim confession is good for the soul," he said, nibbling a small piece of bread. "I don't believe that."

"Do you believe carrying guilt and anger around until they destroy you is a better solution?"

The dead eyes, so like the Iolaus Jason knew in color but so unlike them in spirit, looked at the older man.

"I was about to be married." The voice was as dead as the eyes. The weeping man from the night before was gone. Only a empty shell seemed to be left. "A man came asking for help with monsters attacking his village. Hercules was going to go, of course."

"Of course. Nothing Hercules likes more than whomping on some monsters."

The man's cheeks twitched but no smile appeared. "I liked it, too, but Ania, she was my betrothed, didn't want me to go. She grabbed my arm and gave me this big, sad pouty look and convinced me to stay behind."

"Hercules thought you should stay behind, too, didn't he?"

The man shrugged. He turned a piece of bread around in his hands. Jason could see a bad burn scar across the back of one and wondered if this Iolaus had been a blacksmith, too. "Yes." His voice changed, becoming colder. "I should have gone with him. We promised each other to defend each other's backs but I let my cock do my thinking. I wanted Ania and I let Hercules go without me."

"Maybe it was your heart talking."

The twitch of the cheek again. "You don't know me. You didn't know her."

"True. But I know my Iolaus and I knew his Ania."

The drunk's eyes went wide and finally, something showed in their depths. "He. . .he is married to her?"

"No. She died. A long time ago. But they were married, once. And they were very much in love."

The eyes went blank again. "Hercules left, promising he'd be back in time for the wedding. I never saw him again."

"The monsters killed him?"

Iolaus stood up abruptly, pacing to the far side of the small room. "They weren't monsters. They were Amazons pledged to Demeter."

"And Demeter is the Queen of the Gods, wife of Zeus, and she hates Hercules, right?"

A flicker of curiosity passed across this Iolaus' face. "Isn't it that way here?"

"Not exactly. The names of the gods are the same but they all fill different roles. Except for Zeus. He stays Zeus, king of the gods, apparently everywhere." Jason turned his thoughts back to the conversation at hand. "Here, Hera is Zeus' wife and she's the one who hated Hercules. But I imagine the result would be the same."

"I waited. Everyone was there for the wedding. Everyone but Hercules. We couldn't postpone it just for one guest so we got married and my brother stood up with me instead of Hercules. The next morning. . ." His voice trailed off as he stared out the window. 

Jason crossed the room to see what was so engrossing and saw the thief, leaning on Neron for balance, as the centaur prepared a padded bench for the dying man to sit on in a sheltered sunny corner of the garden. The thief sat on the bench, letting the centaur tuck blankets around him. The two observers couldn't hear what that Iolaus said but they could hear Neron's laugh.

"This is insane," this Iolaus whispered. "How can there be two of me?"

"Five of you as of this morning," said Jason, trying to sound as if such a thing were natural. "He doesn't know Hercules very well. That's probably why he's a thief. It was Hercules' friendship that rescued our Iolaus from a life on the streets."

"Oh, gods." Whatever control keep the guilt inside broke and the drunk slid slowly to the floor, his back against the wall. "Oh, gods. It was the same for me. And I let him go to his death after he'd saved my life!" Leaning into Jason's embrace, the drunk began to weep again.

***

"Good afternoon."

Hercules was so engrossed in his own thoughts that the familiar voice caught him by surprise. He looked up, truly expecting to see his Iolaus and saw, instead, the thief, sitting cozily on a bench next to an olive tree, the warmth of the sun trapped by walls on either side of him.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Neron said sunshine is good for me. Besides, I've spent the last two years in a prison cell. I don't want to lie in a darkened room any more than I have to." He gestured to another bench. "So, how'd it go with your gods?"

Hercules sighed as he sat down on the other bench. "As well as could be expected, I guess." Unaware, he made a face, as if he had tasted something unpleasant. "They have to discuss it."

The sick Iolaus laughed softly. "Typical. How come a god can create a world with the wave of a hand but anything really important comes up and it's conversation time."

Hercules smiled. "I guess our gods are alike in that." The smile faded. "Trouble is, there was a problem with the gateway between worlds before."

Iolaus nodded. "Jason explained that, your gods going off to hide and Ares taking advantage of it."

"Exactly. So, before anyone can do anything that involves the gateway, everybody has to agree to it. Well, not everybody, but all the major deities."

The thief managed a grin. "Well, that sounds as if we may be hip deep in me before anything gets settled."

Running his hands back through his hair, Hercules sighed. "I hope not. I mean, I like Iolaus but this is ridiculous. Speaking of which, where is everybody?"

"I guess the drunk is asleep again. He and Jason spent most of the afternoon together, having quite a talk." Iolaus didn't add he had heard sobbing and shouting as well. "The baby is napping, too, and Jason is keeping an eye on both of them while your Iolaus and the happy daddy went down to the forge. I guess he makes fancy blades as well as jewelry."

Hercules stood up. "Thanks. We'll get this straightened out. Don't worry."

"Don't rush on my account." The thief watched Hercules walk away. He didn't want to go back to his world any time soon. He was being too well taken care of here. Coughing a little, he settled back onto his bench and closed his eyes.

Hercules could hear the voices as he approached the forge. Since the two men had identical voices, it sounded to Hercules as if Iolaus was talking to himself. He paused at the entrance to the forge, letting his eyes adjust to the darker space.

They were standing, heads bent, next to the anvil, studying something between them. As Hercules entered, two pairs of bright eyes looked up and two matching voices said, "Hi, Herc."

His Iolaus held up a dagger. "Catch." He tossed it. Hercules caught it and studied it. The blade was slender, sharpened on both edges, the hilt was made of ebony, polished and inlaid with copper wire in a serpentine pattern. The crossguards were slightly curved, carved to resemble snakes heads, tipped with copper.

The other Iolaus held his hands up. "Go ahead." He demonstrated, holding an imaginary blade. "Flex the blade."

Hercules raised an eyebrow at the request. Carefully, he took the hilt in one hand and grasped the tip in the the other. Very gently, he bent down on the blade. His astonishment must have shown in his face because both men laughed. He tried again, finding the blade flexed without bending or breaking more than any other he had ever encountered.

"That's amazing," he admitted, stopping to look at the weapon more closely. He and Iolaus had made both made numerous knives and swords but nothing like this. The workmanship was fine enough for Hephaestus and the blade itself a wonder.

"See," said his Iolaus, coming to stand next to Hercules. "He adds carbon to the iron, which makes it stronger, and then he folds the blade over on itself repeatedly when hammering it out."

"Really?" He tossed the dagger in the air and caught it. It was beautifully balanced as well. 

Iolaus was still grinning. "Not just once, either, but sixty-four times."

That brought Hercules' eyebrows up again. "Really?"

"Uh-huh." The dagger's maker nodded vigorously. "I studied metallurgy in the East when I was young. They fold the blades over and over and it creates thousands of layers. The layers are what make it so flexible."

Hercules thought about it. One fold made two layers, two folds made four layers, three folds made eight, four folds sixteen. If you continued the process sixty-four times. . .he could hardly imagine how many layers that would make.

"Must take quite a while."

"It does." The metalsmith was still grinning. "But it's worth it."

His Iolaus matched the grin. "His says his swords can be bent almost back on themselves without breaking and take an edge sharper than this."

Hercules ran his edge along the dagger's edge and frowned. "Must be formidable."

"They are," replied the metalsmith, his smile fading. "And very dangerous. Most men can't use a sword like that properly. You have to change your technique from just slashing and stabbing. I've only made a dozen in all the years I've been making them and then only for special warriors."

Iolaus nudged Hercules. "He's going to show me the basic technique. Says it will take me several years to get the hang of it but I figure it will give me something to do when we finally do retire."

"Well, you may have to show Hephaestus once you get it mastered. Which reminds me. . ." Hercules tried to put an encouraging smile on his face but he knew both men saw through it instantly. "It may take some time to get this all put to rights."

The metalsmith smiled again. "Don't worry. I may have some explaining to do when I get back but I'm sure my wife will forgive me as long as Mene and I get back eventually." Hercules noticed that he started to say something, stopped, changing his words before he spoke. "My wife is a very forgiving lady."

Iolaus laughed. "She'd have to be, married to one of us!"

That set the other man laughing as well and Hercules stood there, aware that the expression on his face must be idiotic, as he listened to those identical laughs. Athena was right. As Iolaus problems went, this one could be worse.

He left them at the forge, his Iolaus serving as backhand for the other Iolaus, engrossed in their task. He started back towards the guesthouses when he found himself standing in front of the wood shop that provided for the Academy. Iolaus relaxed with smithing. There were times when Hercules found working with his hands equally comforting. Nothing like concentration on a task to take the mind off an insoluble problem.

He wandered through the shop, finding suitable wood and tools, sharpening the edges of the chisels and axes, sanding and cutting and losing himself in the work, enjoying the smell of freshly cut wood and the feel of something being created by his efforts. When he finished, he stood his creation up on the workbench and smiled, running his hands over the little rocking horse to make sure it was smooth enough for the use of little blonde haired girl.

Pleased with his work, Hercules picked up the horse and carried it with him back to the cluster of guest houses, not surprised to see twin blondes already gathered at the table set up in the courtyard for supper.

"Hi, Herc," they said in chorus. Little Mene, who was perched on her father's lap, lifted her hands up and waved, her eyes going wide as Hercules laid the horse on the table.

"Well, well," said Jason almost gravely as he came out of the main cottage. He studied the horse. "Nice work, Hercules. Have you ever considered giving up the hero business to make toys."

Hercules blushed. The little girl's father just smiled and set the horse on the ground, carefully setting his daughter on top of it. She cooed in delight as he demonstrated how to make the horse rock.

"This is really nice." The metalsmith handed his daughter a grape to eat as she rocked. "Thanks. Funny thing is, I'm great with metal but whenever I try to work with wood, it's a disaster. If Herc and Iphicles didn't stop by my house regularly to fix the roof or the barn, the whole place would probably fall down."

"You're welcome." Hercules crouched down and patted the little girl on the head. "I made ones like it for my children. I think every child needs a rocking horse."

Jason watched the pleasant domestic scene for a moment, then sighed and said, "Could I talk to you for a moment, Hercules?"

The two men left the Iolauses and the little girl to their dinner, walking around to the far side of one guest cottage.

"I talked to our second guest." Jason refused to refer to the second Iolaus as a drunk. "He told me what happened."

Hercules sat down on a stump. Jason leaned against the wall of the cottage, shaking his head. "He said his Hercules went off to fight monsters just before he was to be married. To Ania."

"That happened to us!"

"I know. You told me once, how Iolaus was killed and you got Zeus to turn back time. Well, in his case, he didn't go along. He said the day after his wedding, all Tartarus broke loose. There were storms, earthquakes, floods. Everyone knew that the gods were fighting over the murder of Hercules." Jason looked at his friend, his eyes full of pain. "He's a wreck, you know. He's spent ten years tearing himself up inside, blaming himself for not going with his Hercules, for staying behind with his Ania."

Jason took a deep breath. "He said it was a month before the world calmed down enough for him to go looking for his Hercules. It took him some time but he found the ruins of a village and pit, filled with burned logs and bones. In the pit. . .you should have heard him describe it, it made me weep." He took another slow breath to calm the trembling in his voice. "In the pit, he found the gauntlets his God of the Forge made for his Hercules. He brought them back to his forge and tried, he said, to go on living."

Hercules touched the bracelets Hephaestus had forged for him. They couldn't be destroyed by normal flame. He imagined it was the same for another world. The thought of Iolaus, digging through burned bones, to find that confirmation of his fears, sickened him. Why did that hate have to exist in another world? Wasn't it bad enough here?

"He said he spent so much time dwelling on Hercules' death and feeling a failure that his wife took their son and left him and he's spent the last five years just wandering and drinking." Jason's eyes were full of pain. "He says he's afraid to kill himself because he doesn't want to face his Hercules on the other side. He knows he's twice guilty, once for failing to save his friend and once for letting his guilt destroy his life. I tried to say something, to comfort him, but all I could think was, how hard it would have been for our Iolaus in the same situation."

Hercules stopped rubbing the bracelets. "I should talk to him."

"Yeah, you should, but I'm not sure he's up to it yet. He isn't the kind of drunk that has to have a drink. He hasn't had anything but water all day. But you can see the pain in his eyes and Hercules, I want to help him but I don't know if I can."

Hercules laid his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I think you are helping him."

Jason nodded, still looking unhappy. "I should go take him some dinner. He still won't join the rest of us to eat. He is so ashamed of himself, he assumes every other version of him would be ashamed of him, too." On that grim note, Jason went back to the courtyard to collect a plate.

Hercules followed him, mulling over the story he had just heard, but he couldn't stay sad, not with that delightful child running between his knees, grinning up at him with such glee.

Dinner was pleasant, with the two Iolauses chattering away about metal work while little Mene ran around between the three men, enjoying the attention. As the hours past, she began to get fussy and her father took her away to put her to bed.

Iolaus, still staring after his counterpart and the child, finally spoke. He had sounded quite cheerful all through the meal but now his voice was tense and tight again.

"I suppose we should go see what the gods are sending us tonight."

Sighing, Hercules nodded and rose. The two men walked silently up the hill above the Academy. As Hercules surreptitiously watched, he saw how Iolaus' shoulders slumped. As much as Iolaus seemed to be enjoying the company of the metalsmith and his daughter, he was obviously dreading what was to come.

Hercules rested his hand briefly on Iolaus' shoulder. "It will turn out all right, you'll see."

Iolaus twitched the hand away. "Um, it's not just that Herc." He took a deep breath. He'd been considering the situation all day, wondering just what he should tell his friend, but after watching Hercules play with his counterpart's daughter, Iolaus found himself deciding to be honest. "It's about Mene."

"Mene?" Hercules frowned. She seemed such a perfect child. What could possibly be wrong with her?

Iolaus looked away, fixing his gaze on the tree line at the top of the ridge. His voice was soft. "There's sort of another reason, I think, that you like her."

"Besides she's the cutest thing around?"

"Herc." Iolaus stopped and turned to face his friend. "Her mother is Deianaira."

Hercules stopped, his brows drawing down in concentration. "You mean, that Iolaus is married to. . ."

"Deianaira." Iolaus nodded. "And yes, he says he's heard all the height jokes but it doesn't matter to them."

Iolaus waited. He could see Hercules pondering the situation. It wasn't as if Iolaus has just told Hercules his wife was with another man. This was another Deianaira. Still, all those other people, with the same names and the same faces, resonated in this world.

"Are they happy?"

"I think so." Iolaus smiled. "They have five kids. From the way he talks about her, I think he adores her."

"Hmm." Hercules cocked his head to one side, studying his friend. "That Iolaus is a stay-at-home sort, isn't he? Safe in his own bed every night?"

"That's the impression I get. He said something this afternoon about this being the first night he'd spent away from his wife in several years."

Hercules smiled. "Then why should it bother me? You know, I like knowing that there is another Deianaira out there somewhere, happily married, with a houseful of kids and a husband with enough sense to stay put." He put his hand on Iolaus' shoulder again and the smaller man let it stay. "Actually, the more I think about it, the more I like it."

Relieved, Iolaus started walking back up the hill again. "He said his Hercules rescued her and brought her back to his mother's to stay." A sideways glance and grin told Hercules Iolaus was about to tell him something embarrassing. "She liked Hercules but Hercules, in that world, doesn't like women."

"Really?" Hercules pretended to frown ominously. "Not at all?"

"Not at all!"

Iolaus relief and good mood only lasted a few moments, until they reached the spot that marked the hillside meadow where the whirlwind between worlds had been leaving its passengers.

The sky was clear, only a high clouds drifting past the quarter moon. They waited, not talking, Iolaus fidgeting, first with the buckles on his gauntlets, then twisting and untwisting his amulet. Finally, Iolaus said, very softly, "I hope he's sober and alone," just as the wind started.

The man who came spinning out of the whirlwind this time landed on his shoulder, rolled and was on his feet in a heartbeat, his sword held firmly in his right hand, a plain round buckler over his left arm.

It was hard to see, in the dim moonlight, but he appeared to have close cropped hair and a full beard. He wore a leather breastplate and heavy leather kilt over dark colored shirt and trousers. A helmet with faceguards hung over his shoulder on a strap. He stared at the two men facing him before saying, in a hoarse, hard voice, "I don't know who you are but I know who you aren't."

Recognizing a warrior on the defensive, both Hercules and Iolaus slowly raised their hands to show them empty of weapons.

"We're not a threat," said Hercules as mildly as he could manage.

The man moved cautiously forward, keeping the sword low and ready for a nasty thrust. He leaned in towards Hercules. Because he stood on the upslope, he was above the larger man and could look him directly in the eye.

"Very impressive," he said. "But you're not Hercules. I don't know who you are or why you are trying to deceive me but I know my friend and you are not him."

Iolaus spoke up. "He's Hercules, all right. He's just not your Hercules."

The soldier's eyes slid sideways just enough to see Iolaus without letting Hercules leave his field of view.

"Oh? And who are you supposed to be? Me?"

"Close. My name is Iolaus, this is Hercules but you're not where you think you are." Iolaus sounded a little irritated. "Didn't you notice getting sucked into a whirlwind, thrown down some sort of tunnel and getting tossed out here? Or weren't you paying attention?"

"Iolaus!" Hercules couldn't help the exasperation in his voice.

The soldier looked back at Hercules for an instant, then made a decision. He slid his sword back into the scabbard on his back, sliding his buckler over it. Crossing his arms, he stood back, expectantly.

"Well?"

Hercules wanted to laugh. There was something so familiar in the man's stance. Instead, he started to explain. 

"This is complicated but you are the sixth version of Iolaus in this world at the moment."

"The sixth?" 

"I'm the original," volunteered Iolaus. "To this world, that is."

Hercules sighed. "There are an infinite number of worlds beyond the one you belong in. Gods in one of those infinite worlds decided to play with powers beyond their comprehension. As a result, they opened some sort of passage from their world, to this one. And they forced the Iolaus of that world into it. He ended up here, probably because there were two Iolauses here already."

Hercules couldn't see the man's face clearly but the tone of voice told him the soldier was still doubtful. "Two, you say."

"That's even more complicated," Hercules continued. "I'll explain later but suffice to say for now that there were already two of you. Or them. As it were."

"Uh-huh. Keep talking."

"Somehow, the presence of a third version of Iolaus seems to have upset the balance of all existence. Think of it as if this world were a lodestone and all the Iolauses in existence are inexorably drawn to it."

The soldier paced slowly towards Iolaus, who consciously kept his stance relaxed and non threatening. He had a feeling this version of himself was very quick with a sword.

"You need a haircut," said the soldier, sounding like a captain reviewing his troops. "And I don't know who made that idiot waistcoat you're wearing but it doesn't seem very practical." A finger reached out to tap the amulet resting on Iolaus' breastbone. "An enemy could grab that and strangle you with it, unless the cord breaks easily, in which case the cord would break easily and you'd lose it. Impractical, again."

"I am not a soldier." 

"No?" The man took Iolaus' hands in his. It was an odd sensation, to have his hands held by ones so like his own. The rough fingers ran over his palms, then the backs of his knuckles, before he released them. "I bet you're nasty in unarmed combat as well as with a sword. You might check the balance of that sword, by the way. I think its rubbing too much on your thumb."

"Uh, thanks."

The soldier looked down at the Academy. "The stables," he said, gesturing, "should be over there. And there isn't a temple. I guess this really is a different world."

The three men started to walk back down towards the Academy, the soldier keeping up a steady stream of questions. Iolaus studied him as they walked. He had never much cared for armor but this version of himself wore it as easily as Iolaus wore his favorite clothes. He suspected this version of himself had never been a thief, nor did he have a houseful of children waiting for his return. This was a professional soldier, the kind who had spent most of his life on the battlefield, hardened and hard. Even his voice was rough, no doubt from shouting orders over the clash of swords and the screams of men.

He had the detailed mind of a careful commander as well, making Hercules backtrack in his tale more than once.

"So," the soldier said, interrupting Hercules again. "Hades is the God of War in this world that started the whirlwind and Ares is the God of Wisdom. While in this world, Hades is the God of the Underworld and Ares is the God of War. Interesting."

Iolaus asked, just out of curiosity. "Whose who in your world?"

The soldier stopped. "Hades is the God of Healing."

Iolaus grinned. "Considering he's in charge of the dead here, that's quite a stretch".

The warrior looked at Iolaus, frowning. He didn't seem to have quite the sense of humor of his counterpart.

Trying to keep up his end of the conversation, Iolaus continued, " And Ares?"

"God of the Underworld."

"Now that I could see. He likes black. And dead things. So, who's your God of War?"

The soldier hesitated, turning away from his double. He looked up at Hercules. His voice was softer than it had been before.

"In my world," he said, "Hercules is the God of War."

"What?" 

Both men exclaimed the word at the same time. They had come into the courtyard of the guest houses and the lanterns burning there gave them a better view of their latest visitor. He did have a beard and an old sword cut that ran under his right eye, so deep it left a pit where it had caved in the cheekbone. 

"Hercules," repeated the soldier, "is God of War."

"How did that happen?" Hercules sounded horrified.

The soldier managed a faint smile, made slightly lopsided by the scar on his face. "That is also a long story."

"Jason!" Iolaus called out the name in greeting, not wanting his friend's approach to startle the newest version of himself. He suspected this Iolaus used his sword first and asked questions later.

The soldier spun, his hand reaching back for that sword, before relaxing. Jason, seeing the movement, had dropped back a pace, ready for the attack.

"I take it," he said, as pleasantly as possible, "that we are not friends in your world."

The soldier let out a slow breath. "We were, once. But you were driven mad and became a terrible enemy. I'm sorry, but in my world, I killed you myself. So your presence does seem to confirm what these two told me. I am not in my world."

"No," said Jason softly. "You're not. But you're welcome here. Please, come in, we have some wine and bread, if you're hungry."

The soldier came into the guest house, looking around with a curious frown on his face. The metalsmith came out of one bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him. When he saw the newest Iolaus, he smiled broadly as he spoke in a whisper.

"I just got Mene to sleep. Could you keep your voices down?"

The four men nodded. Hercules, Iolaus and Jason took seats at the table. The soldier took an offered goblet of wine and chose a seat on the bench by the fire, keeping a wary eye on the rest of the them. The metalsmith sat on the hearth stone, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

The soldier took a sip of wine, holding it in his mouth for a moment, as if he were worried it was poisoned. Then he swallowed before speaking.

"So, what are your gods doing about this. . ." He gestured with the wine cup, taking in the two other fair-haired men in the room.

Hercules shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Well, they have to get together and discuss it and see if they can come up with a solution. Which, so far, is taking some time."

"It's not bad," volunteered the metalsmith. "Actually, I find it rather interesting, meeting all these versions of myself. Sort of fascinating to find out how my life would have turned out if I had made different decisions along the way."

The soldier gave the metalsmith a long, appraising look. It was obvious he was as unimpressed with this version of himself as he was the first Iolaus he met. The metalsmith merely smiled placidly. He wasn't the sort of man who much concerned himself with the opinion of others.

"So," said the soldier, "my alternate selves are a thief, a drunk, this overweight, overdressed poofer, and you."

Before Iolaus could answer, the metalsmith, who had grinned at the soldier's assessment, replied. "You forgot the merman. We haven't met him. He used to be a court jester."

The soldier made a disgusted sound. Iolaus, watching the tension built in the other man, sprang to his feet. "Would you like to tour the Academy? You seemed familiar with it. Do you spend a lot of time at the Academy in your world?"

"I should. I'm it's commandant." He tossed back the rest of his wine. "Yes, I would like a tour."

Iolaus convinced him to leave his armor and sword behind, although he got a very suspicious glare. Taking two lanterns, the two men started on their tour, Iolaus taking the lead. He had gotten the feeling that if his warrior counterpart stayed in that cozy room much longer, with Jason and the metalsmith, he might just explode. 

"What would you like to see first," Iolaus asked mildly.

"The armory."

"Ah, we don't have a lot of weapons. Most of what we keep are practice weapons. This is a school as much as a training ground for warriors."

The soldier, whose face seemed as set in a permanent frown as Iolaus' was in a ready smile, shook his head. "We don't train barbarians. We teach history, geography, some mathematics and logic."

"I was never any good at logic when I was a student."

"That doesn't surprise me."

The two men toured the grounds in near silence. Occasionally, the soldier would ask a question and Iolaus would answer but there was no small talk. The soldier did stop in front of the training field.

"Something wrong?"

"This is where we built the temple to Hercules."

"Ah." Iolaus set his lantern down on a post. "Could I ask you about that? Hercules, the one here, went off to be a god but he hated it. Gave it up after a day. How did your Hercules end up as God of War, of all things?"

Iolaus wondered if the soldier were going to answer. He had decided, watching the man, that this version of himself had a half healed wound under his tunic. The soldier made a very careful effort to conceal the pain he was in but Iolaus, who had concealed quite a few aches and pains in his day, saw through the charade. Couple of broken ribs, maybe, or some injury to his belly, Iolaus wasn't sure, but the soldier had winced a couple of times and pressed his hand against his side when he thought Iolaus wasn't looking. Maybe it was that pain that made the soldier sigh and stop walking. He sat down on a log.

"It's another long story."

Iolaus leaned against the fence. "I haven't slept decently since the thief first showed up. Might as well stay up all night talking as tossing in my bed."

The soldier gave him a ghost of a smile. "Sounds familiar." His face set back in its usual lines. "Hercules became God of War because of me."

"Oh? You wanted him to take the job?"

"No." His expression became distant. "Anything but. I hate it. But he had to do it to get me back."

"Let me guess. You died?"

"How did you know?"

Iolaus laughed, shaking his head. "I've been dead three or four times, depending on how you count it. The last time I was dead for over a year."

"And I thought dying twice and coming back was unusual. Maybe I underestimated you."

Iolaus prompted the soldier. "So, Herc became a god to get you back. . ."

The soldier turned his back on Iolaus, tipping his head back to look at the stars. "Sky's the same." Iolaus said nothing as he waited. "Apollo was already a little insane when I was young. Zeus' favoring Hercules seemed to have pushed Apollo even further over the edge."

"How can you tell when a god is insane?"

The soldier turned back, his eyes glinting. "When he changes sides in the middle of a battle. When he shows up, larger than life and stark naked, throwing fireballs at everybody, screaming that he is going to destroy the world."

"Oh."

The soldier snorted. It might have been a laugh. "A distant kinsman of mine was one of the Athenian kings. Orestes was a clever man, born to rule. He could outthink and out manipulate anyone. Any mortal. He worshipped Apollo very carefully. I hate to think what he did to keep Apollo on his side. Then, one day, out of the blue, for no apparent reason, Apollo showed up at the palace and started tossing fireballs. Burned the palace to the ground and half the city with it. My cousin's body was never found. Apollo destroyed the richest city and the most powerful king that supported him, on a whim!" 

"I had a cousin Orestes. He was king. He was assassinated to try to prevent peace."

"I was assassinated, too. By a creature created by Apollo."

"Ah." Iolaus would have laughed if the topic wasn't so grim. "I was beaten to death by an elemental enforcer of Hera's."

"I was beaten to death by an elemental enforcer of Apollo's."

"Nice to know we have so much in common."

At that, the soldier did flash a quick smile. "Did Hercules going tearing into the Underworld to demand your return?"

"Yup."

"Same here. Ares didn't mind, that time. He hated Apollo and I think he knew sending me back would piss Apollo off." The soldier looked away. "Which it did. Two years later, Apollo found another way to get to me." He took a deep breath, his voice sounding irritated. "Why am I telling you this? I have never told anyone this."

"Think of it as talking to yourself."

The soldier gave Iolaus another one of his faint smiles. "Isn't that a sign of insanity." The smile vanished. "I suppose it doesn't make any difference." Pacing, the soldier began to walk a slow circle. "I was married." His voice dropped. "I was a lousy husband and a worse father but I did love my wife and child, even if I was rarely around to tell them that."

Horrified, Iolaus interrupted. "He. . ."

The soldier's head came up. Even in the dim light, Iolaus could see the fury in his expression. "I'd been gone for months. Apollo must have known I was going home because his men. . .if I can call them that. They were animals! They got there a day before I did. " He stopped, closing his eyes. Iolaus didn't want him to continue but that rough voice began again. "When I saw what they had done to my wife and son. . .I think Apollo drove me to madness as awful as his. Because after I buried them. . .I fell on my sword."

"You killed yourself?" Iolaus was genuinely horrified. He had thought the drunk the Iolaus least like himself but this man proved himself the more unlike.

"Yes." He glared at Iolaus, as if challenging him. "I failed my family! I was so busy off fighting with Hercules, I wasn't there to defend them. And if I hadn't been with Hercules in the first place, my wife and child wouldn't have been a target!"

"So, when Hercules came looking for you. . ."

"I was damned to Tartarus. Yes." The soldier rubbed his hand against his side again, glaring at Iolaus as he did so. "Hercules still wanted me back. He came and tried to get Ares to let me return. I didn't want to go back." He shook his head. "I was too much of a coward to tell Hercules that, of course. So Ares made a deal with Hercules."

"If Hercules took down Apollo and took over as God of War. . ."

"Exactly." The soldier's jaw tightened. "The other gods helped. They were as tired of Apollo as Ares by that time but none of them wanted the job. Dealing with all the anger and aggression of mortals is unpleasant work."

"So your Hercules got stuck with a job he hated and you got brought back to life, which you didn't want. Sounds lovely."

The soldier snorted again. His snorts were very expressive. "It's not as bad as it could be. Hercules is good at his job. He keeps the bloodshed to a minimum, makes sure that wars are only fought for good causes, mostly for defense or to prevent some lunatic despot who used to be favored under Apollo from getting out of control."

"And you run the Academy?"

"Hercules put me here so he'd know where I was. Keep me safe."

Iolaus didn't have to interpret the soldier's tone of voice. He knew how he'd feel in the same position.

"Still sounds like a world I'd rather not live in."

"No." He took a deep breath. "But it's my world. I belong there. And I hate to think what Hercules is doing right now, trying to find me."

Now that conjured up a horrible image. What if Hercules the God managed to open a doorway into this world? Would he show up? Would the imbalance then start pulling other Hercules' out of there worlds? Iolaus felt sick. "We better tell Herc to give the local gods a nudge."

"Good idea."

"One more question. What does Hercules' temple look like?"

To Iolaus' surprise, the soldier gave a short, sharp laugh. "Small. Plain. He didn't want one at all but I convinced him that there are stonemasons and bricklayers who make their living building temples. He won't set foot inside it. Hates the temples that were Apollo's and are now his. He makes his generals meet him every where but in one of his temples. I hate to think how many of Apollo's priests he put out of work."

Grinning, Iolaus said, "Our God of War has lots of attractive priestesses. Does your Hercules have any of those?"

"No." The soldier sighed, his smile flashing again briefly. "Apollo only let men serve him and I can't convince Herc to take advantage of his position that way."

Hercules looked up, surprised to here these two Iolauses laughing softly as they entered the courtyard. Even as a hardened soldier, Iolaus still had that wonderful laugh. Hercules did find himself wondering how much longer they would all find the situation amusing.

***

In the morning, Hercules was surprised to find his Iolaus was already awake, having an argument with the soldier. They were nose to nose in the courtyard, both in full snarl. 

"Hercules!" Iolaus turned to him, hands outspread. "He insists on coming with us this morning."

"I like to know what is going on. I want to see this whirlwind without being sucked into it. "

The headache was back, full force. Hercules rubbed his temples. "Fine," he said, aware that his voice sounded tired already, "you can come but stay back. It will be disconcerting enough for whoever shows up this morning without you glaring at them. And leave the weapons behind. Both of you."

The small party started up the hill to where the vortex would deposit the morning's Iolaus. Hercules had gotten a full report the night before about a world in which he was God of War. The thought had given him nightmares. After they met the latest version of Iolaus, Hercules was calling on his father and try to get the whole thing straightened out. 

The soldier was lurking behind a tree, Hercules and Iolaus in their usual spot below the crest of the hill, when the vortex formed, the wind blowing all of them back a step, before disgorging a figure dressed in white.

Hercules went first, holding his hand out and helping the latest Iolaus to his feet.

This Iolaus wore a knee-length white chiton, held at the waist by a corded belt. His hair was long, brushed back over his shoulders, and he had a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. As he brushed himself off, he said, wide-eyed and cheerful, "Goodness gracious, what was that?"

"A vortex," said Hercules, trying to decide how to respond to this Iolaus, "between worlds."

"Really?" This Iolaus sounded delighted. He looked around, caught sight of the other versions of himself. "Then you must be me and you. . .Orestes?"

Iolaus, who looked very suspiciously at this newest version of himself, replied. "No. We're both Iolaus."

Hercules took a deep breath and began to explain. This version kept interrupting, asking astute questions, pausing to examine first Iolaus, then Hercules, then the soldier, as if they were horses in a ring.

"I knew it!" said the newest Iolaus, peering at the broken talisman around his counterpart's neck. "I was talking with Socrates last week about the concept of multiple planes of existence."

Tugging his amulet free, Iolaus frowned. He sounded a little sulky. "Socrates? The philosopher?"

"Yes. He teaches at my school."

Hercules raised his eyebrows. "Your school?"

"Oh, yes. I run a school in Athens."

The other two Iolauses exchanged raised eyebrows with Hercules. They found this newest version of themselves confusing. Instead of being disoriented by his bizarre experience, he seemed fascinated. He kept asking questions as they walked down to the guest houses, sometimes answering them himself. 

"I must meet this thief, ask more about his gods. You say Ares is God of War here?"

"Um, yes." Hercules found this Iolaus less like his old friend than any who had yet come through the vortex. For one thing, he was obviously much better educated. 

"Fascinating. My Ares is God of Music. He's a very peaceful person. I teach music, of course, at my Academy, and Ares is often a guest lecturer. Although, to be frank, while he understands the emotions behind music, his grasp of theory, especially the mathematical concepts behind harmony, is weak."

"Ah," Hercules tried to interrupt this scholar. "I don't know that I'd mention that to this Ares. He has kind of a nasty temper."

"Or course he does." The scholar smiled. "He's God of War. Artemis is Goddess of War in my world and she is quite quick-tempered."

"I could see that," said Iolaus. "She in charge of hunting here."

The soldier said, "Goddess of Childbirth."

Hercules felt his headache surge. He was going to talk to his father right now. Before he could excuse himself, the newest Iolaus laid his hand on Hercules' arm. Hercules looked into that face, noticing that this Iolaus looked younger than the others, as if his life had been less wearing and marked him less.

"I would like to talk to each of my counterparts," he said, his voice serious, his gaze intense and intelligent. It reminded Hercules, in an unpleasant way, of when Dahak had possessed his Iolaus. "I have a theory about this problem of yours but I'd like to know more. I'd especially like to talk to the merman, since he spent time in that place between worlds. Could you arrange that?"

"Um, sure. I'll talk to Aphrodite. Right now, I need to talk to Zeus."

***

"I feel like I'm in a parade," muttered Iolaus as he walked beside Hercules down to the cove where Aphrodite had arranged a meeting. 

Hercules would have laughed, had his head not felt as if it were about to explode. Zeus had muttered something about 'discussions,' which Hercules interpreted to mean his enemies among the Pantheon weren't cooperating, Ares no doubt chief among them. 

When he had returned to the guest house, he found the scholar holding court, asking questions of each Iolaus. When the scholar learned he could meet the missing Iolaus, he had wanted to start immediately. The soldier wanted to come along so he could ask a few questions, too. Then the metal smith decided an outing to the beach sounded delightful. And his Iolaus, who Hercules suspected had no desire to meet the man who replaced him, came along because he didn't want to be left behind.

So, to the stares of the cadets, the parade of Iolauses had headed down the hill. The soldier and the scholar were in deep discussion, comparing histories. The metalsmith, shifting his daughter to his other arm, laughed.

"I asked him," he said to Hercules, "how come he was so smart and he admitted he was asked to judge a beauty contest between the Goddesses of Love, Wisdom and the Hunt."

"That happened to Iolaus." Hercules winced. "I mean. . ."

The metalsmith laughed. "I know what you mean. He picked Aphrodite, Goddess of Wisdom, and she upped his brain power a few notches."

"Iolaus picked Aphrodite, only she is Goddess of Love around here."

Iolaus interrupted his friend, glaring at the metalsmith. He was feeling petty and jealous that morning, having had very little sleep for the last two days. "Did the same thing happen to you?"

"Yes. And since I have five children, you can guess who I picked." Then he laughed. 

"Dada," chirped the little girl, struggling. "Dada down." 

"Mene, I'm trying to. . ."

Iolaus reached for the child. "I'll take her." Before her father could react, Iolaus took the little girl, who went to him willingly. "How come you had enough to sense to retire and raise a family, huh?" He sounded joking as he asked but the metalsmith's usual smile faded a little.

"Actually, it wasn't my idea."

"Oh." Iolaus was swinging the child between his arms as they walked. "Herc's then."

"No. Poseidon's. He's God of the Underworld."

"Huh?"

The metalsmith laughed, only his laugh was soft and pained. He raised his head, looking away from his child and his twin, staring off into the blue Greek sky.

"We had just gotten back from the Ionian Wars, Hercules, Iphicles and I. We had been gone seven years." Something dark passed across his face. "They were long years, hard years." He shook his head. "We were sitting on a fence, around the orchard at Amphitryon's farm, eating apples and trying to decide what do do now that the war was over.

"I remember thinking how perfect it was, the three of us, all alive and well, laughing as we pretended to try to push each other off the fence. For the first time in seven years, we were safe at home and could finally start thinking about the future.

"Then I saw movement on the far side of the orchard." He sighed, shaking his head. His face was shadowed, his eyes focused far away. "I didn't stop to think. I reacted automatically, as I had in battle after battle over the years. I saw a threat, I didn't even stop to think, I just. . .pushed Hercules out of the way. I didn't know consciously that he was the target but I. . ." He shook his head again, bringing his attention back to the man and child beside him. "The arrow hit me in the middle of the chest. It split my heart. I was dead before I hit the ground."

Hercules, who had been listening, said, "That does seem to happen to Iolaus a lot, too. Getting killed, I mean."

Iolaus, who has set Mene down to run a few steps forward, added, "And coming back."

"Well, yes." The metalsmith scratched the back of his neck in a gesture Hercules found familiar. "Hercules was in the Underworld before I'd got across the river. He demanded Poseidon return me. He said that since the assassin meant to kill him, not me, I had died by mistake."

Iolaus raised an eyebrow. "Did he buy that excuse?"

"No but Hercules threw a fit." He smiled apologetically at Hercules. "My Hercules. He got pretty pushy."

Iolaus tossed a smile at his friend. "And Poseidon caved after he was confronted with Hercules' brilliant argument."

"Nope. Mene, not in your mouth. I was dead meat. I was heading straight for Tartarus, too, because of all the men I had killed."

Iolaus took the questionable rock away from Mene as he said, "Here, killing an enemy in battle gets you into the Elysium Fields."

"In battle. I was an assassin."

Both Iolaus and Hercules stopped dead, staring at the plump, placid metalsmith who was crouching next to his daughter, helping her pick a wildflower.

"Assassin?" Hercules sounded horrified.

The metalsmith laughed. "You sound just like my Hercules. He didn't know about my. . .other occupation. He knew that some nights, I'd find someone else to. . .occupy my time. He wasn't interested in women but he knew Iphicles and I had more varied tastes. What he didn't know was. . .some nights, I was murdering people."

He straightened, sighing. "I know, I know. To look at me now but in those days. . .I was a nasty piece of work. I had these stilettos I kept in sheathes in my bracers and. . ." At the look he was getting from Hercules and Iolaus, his voice trailed off.

"So," said Iolaus as he managed to get his voice back, "What happened?"

"Poseidon said I could come back provided I never killed anyone ever again. Which sort of meant I couldn't travel with Iphicles and Hercules because I might get in a fight and Poseidon made it very clear that he didn't care how justified it was, I killed one person and I was taking up residence in Tartarus."

"Dada!" Mene held up a branch with a few leaves attached and waved it at her father. He laughed and waved back.

"Good thing Deianaira came along when she did or I'd have gone stir crazy." 

The scholar came trotting back from where he had been leading the group. "Is that him?"

Hercules looked down at the cove. On a far spit of land that curved out from the shore, he could see someone with bright, fair hair sitting there. 

"Ah, yeah. Look, he's kind of. . .shy. I'll go talk to him."

The row of Iolauses stood on the shore, Mene wandering between them, as Hercules headed down the beach. Iolaus the merman was sitting on the sand, his tail in the water, his face raised towards Hercules.

"Hello," said Hercules squatting down to look this Iolaus in the eye. "Did Aphrodite explain to you. . ."

"Yes, she did." The merman smiled. "She said you were having a little trouble with it. And that one of them wanted to ask me some questions."

"Trouble with it." Hercules scrubbed his face wearily with his hands. "That's one way to put it."

"She told me when the real Iolaus. . ." Iolaus ducked his head and blushed. "You know what I mean. When your Iolaus came back. I was happy to hear that. I know how much you missed him."

"I miss you , too, you know." 

The merman grinned. "You miss my cooking."

"It's not just that," protested Hercules, managing his first real smile in days, "Although I'll admit I do miss some of it. You made great breakfasts."

"Still do. You'll have to come for breakfast some time. Maybe after the baby comes. . ."

"Baby! You and Nautica! Congratulations!"

The soldier paced back and forth, which amused Mene, who chased happily after the end of his cloak. He watched Hercules hug the half fish version, frowning. The scholar nudged the metalsmith in the elbow, noticing how grim the first Iolaus looked as he watched his partner and the merman.

"You know," whispered the scholar to the metalsmith, "This is really quite fascinating."

"Hey!" Hercules was standing up and waving.

The line of Iolauses moved down the beach and along the outcropping in single file, the metalsmith scooping his daughter up into his arms.

"Iolaus," said Hercules, throwing his hands up, "Meet Iolaus."

There was a brief pause, each man staring at the merman, who stared back, taking each, near identical face in turn. Then Mene wiggled free of her father's arms, giggling.

"And this," added her father, "is Mene. My daughter."

Very seriously, the merman said, "Hello, Mene."

The child slapped the water and giggled. The merman curled up the ends of his tail, which made her laugh, and uncurled them, which made the child laugh some more.

"How do you do that?" asked the metalsmith companionably as he sat down, tugging his boots off. 

The merman shrugged. "I just curl my toes only, instead, my tail curls."

The scholar crouched down, staring into the water. "Fascinating. It must have been difficult, making the adaptation from a surface to a water creature. Do you have gills?"

"Forget about the gills," interrupted the metalsmith, who had rolled up his trousers so he could put his feet in the water. He held his daughter on his lap and let her splash in it happily. "Where are your privates?"

Iolaus the merman turned pink, which only made the metalsmith laugh. "Oh, c'mon. It's what we're all thinking! "

"It's not what I'm thinking," said the soldier, sounding fierce and furious. He strode impatiently back up the beach. After a moment, Hercules stood up and followed. 

As they left, the metalsmith said, "Well?"

Hercules left the cluster of Iolauses, blonde heads bent together over the pool. He didn't know for certain what the merman had revealed but he heard his Iolaus, the scholar and the metalsmith all burst out laughing. 

"Something wrong?" Hercules kept his voice mild as he sat on the boulder next to the soldier. This Iolaus had his mouth set in a thin line, one hand pressed against his side as if he were in pain.

For an answer, the soldier snorted, then shook his head. "No, not really. I'm just a bit impatient." He sighed, rubbing at his side. "This is a difficult situation."

Hercules gave a strangled laugh. "I noticed."

"Hercules. . ." Iolaus glanced at the man beside him. "My Hercules, when he first became a god, did something. He. . .connected us." The soldier pressed his hand against his side, about where his liver was located. "He did something so that he could always tell, without any effort, where I was. He wanted to keep track of me." The soldier gave this Hercules a faint smile. "He knows where the worst battles are and wants to make sure I'm not in the middle of one."

"I don't think my Iolaus would like that."

"No. I'm not too happy about it but. . ." The soldier drew a deep breath, letting his hand fall into his lap. His other rested on the hilt of his sword. "It works both ways. If we get too far apart, I feel this. . .tug inside. Apparently, because I am so far away, I'm getting this pain." At his companion's expression, he clarified, "Nothing serious. Just the sort of ache you get when you run too hard. And with you here, it seems to be letting up."

"Your Hercules is probably worried."

"Um." The soldier looked back at his counterparts. Now all three men were sitting with their feet in the water and the merman was holding the child. The scholar seemed to be saying something. "My Hercules has a bit of a temper and gets rather protective. I hate to think what he is doing right now."

The same idea that had occurred to Iolaus when he first heard about Hercules, God of War, occurred to Hercules. "What if he tries to open a portal. . ."

The soldier made a soft, hoarse sound Hercules identified after a moment as laughter. "Then we end up with a dozen Hercules to match the Iolauses. Should be interesting. What's wrong? You don't look well?"

"I have, " said Hercules, "a headache."

***

They had walked back, the scholar telling all of them the solution was simple. He was fairly certain all they had to do was open a portal a few moments before one opened automatically and then enter it in reverse order. He gave them all a long, complicated explanation as to why he was sure it would work but none of them really understood.

When they arrived back at the guest house, the metalsmith went to put his sleepy daughter down for a nap and the scholar and the soldier went off to discuss something. Hercules sat next to his Iolaus on a bench beside the house.

"Well?"

"Did you know that dolphins have very large. . .well, you know, privates?"

Hercules raised an eyebrow. "Um, no. No, I didn't know that."

"Well, they do." Iolaus was twisting a loose thread from his vest in his fingers. This action apparently required considerable attention because he kept his eyes fixed on his hands. "Iolaus said merman are the same way. Something to with a woman not being able to spread her legs if she hasn't got any."

Hercules shifted uncomfortably at the turn the conversation was taking, which earned him a sharp nudge in the ribs from Iolaus, even though Iolaus didn't look up.

"As a consequence, when Aphrodite turned him into a merman.. ." Iolaus sighed as his voice trailed off. He stopped playing with the thread and spread his hands apart. 

"You're joking?" 

"Nope. I guess it's needed for the reach. So to speak. He says it doesn't make any difference as far as sensation but it sure looks impressive."

"Yow."

Iolaus sighed again as he folded his arms. "I'm glad, you know, that you had someone to keep you company. And I'm glad he got out of that world. He's a nice guy. He deserves some happiness, a new life, with a wife and child, away from that insane place."

"He never replaced you. He just. . ." Hercules sighed, too, leaning against his Iolaus. "He was there. I needed someone. Someone to take my mind off. . ."

"I know." Iolaus leaned into Hercules. "I know."

Before the conversation could continue, the soldier came stomping out of the guest house. He never seemed to stroll anywhere. He marched, he stomped, he strode. He was halfway past the bench when he seemed to register the two men sitting there.

"Bright boy back there," said the soldier, "says we need to open a portal. I gather it takes more than one god to do that and the local gods aren't cooperating."

Hercules sat up straight under that piercing gaze. "No, they aren't. Well, I suspect Ares is the one who isn't. We don't get along very well. But I'm sure Zeus will bring pressure to bear. . ."

"Screw Zeus." The soldier snapped. "Ares is the God of War, right? Well, I know how to handle Ares and I know how to handle Gods of War."

With that cryptic remark, he started off up the hill. Before Iolaus or Hercules could follow, Jason game out of the house, the former drunkard hesitantly behind. 

"Hercules," said Jason, "Iolaus would like to talk to you."

***  
Iolaus stormed up the hill, muttering about idiotic civilians and gods with no guts. He stopped, beyond a copse of trees, out of sight of the Academy and, most importantly the guest houses. He adjusted his sword, then closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. The god was near. He was sure of it.

"Ares," he called, opening his eyes. "Ares, God of War, show yourself!"

There was no answer beyond the wind sighing in the branches.

"Ares! I know you are here and can hear me! We can either do this face to face or I can just shout into the wind but you are going to listen!"

"Pushy, aren't you?" Ares appeared in a flash of blue sparks, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The soldier in front of him mirrored the god's pose.

"Yes, I am and I am also not known for my patience or my sense of humor. I have about had it with this ridiculous situation and I am here to tell you to stop jerking us around."

Ares raised an eyebrow. "You--a mortal--are telling me--a god--what to do?" He laughed harshly. "Arrogant, aren't you? And why should I oblige?"

Iolaus showed his teeth in a wolflike grin. "Three reasons. One, this can't go on much longer. You know it. It was funny but a world filling up with Iolauses at the rate of two of day would become more of a bother than an amusement fairly quickly, aside from the worry that this unbalance of one person might cause other factors to go out of balance."

Unconcerned, Ares shrugged. "It can go on for a few more days. I'm still finding it hilarious."

"Second reason." Iolaus lowered himself to one knee and bent his head. "I am a warrior and you are my god. Maybe not the God of War I usually serve but a god of war, nonetheless. God of War, exceeding in strength, chariot-rider,golden-helmed, determined in heart, shield-bearer, savior of cities, harnessed in bronze, strong of arm, unwearying, mighty with the spear, O defender of Olympus, father of warlike Victory, stern governor of the rebellious, leader of righteous men, hear my prayer."

As the soldier chanted the words, Ares smiled and sucked in his breath in obvious pleasure.

"Oh, my," said the god, letting his breath out in a hiss, "You give good worship. But not good enough for me to grant you anything major."

"All right." Iolaus stood up, brushing off his knees, and gave the god a lop-sided smile. "Reason three. I know the Ares of my world well. Very well. You could say we were close friends."

"So?"

"So, I know something about him that he likes to keep a deep, dark secret because it is so embarrassing. Now, granted, you're not my Ares, he's the God of the Underworld, but there is a considerable resemblance. In fact, you look almost alike, except he has a full beard and wears a long coat with long sleeves. And has his secret, of course."

Ares frowned, looking bored. "What could be so embarrassing? He screws sheep? And besides, as you said, you're not talking about me."

"No, but if I told the Hercules and Iolaus of this world about how the Ares of my world likes to write musical comedies, don't you think they'd find that amusing?"

"What!" Ares snatched at the soldier, snarling, reluctantly impressed when the man ducked and spun away, avoiding his grasp. Not many people could evade the God of War.

"Every time they'd look at you, they'd wonder if you like to write little ditties in your spare time."

"Your God of the Underworld writes musical comedies?"

"I know, sounds weird but once, when I was dead for a while, I caught him at it. He was doing this little dance and singing a song." Awkwardly, Iolaus shuffled a few steps in the grass. "He's a much better dancer than I am. Anyway, he was having trouble with a rhyme. I gave him some suggestions and now, when I'm bored, we get together and write. There is a contest held every two years, the Hestian festival, in honor of Hestia, Goddess of Music and Poetry. Last year, our composition, entered anonymously, of course, won second place in the musical comedy category."

Ares was staring at this version of Iolaus, his mouth agape in horror. If his Iolaus and Hercules ever thought, for even an instant, that he might. . .He shuddered.

Iolaus, who was losing his patience, suddenly threw his arms wide and sang, very loudly, in bright, clear, tenor, "I am the very model of a modern major general. . ."

"What?!?"

"It's a song Ares and I wrote for our newest play." Iolaus leaned in conspiratorially. "Want to hear the rest?"

"Gaia's guts, no!" Ares looked around nervously, worried that someone had overheard the conversation,. "Don't be silly. No one would believe. . ." His voice trailed off. No, they might not believe he would but anyone who heard the story could still picture Ares dancing--DANCING!--while he sang. "All right." His shoulders sagged. "You win."

"Thank you, my lord." The reverence in Iolaus' voice made Ares smile again.

"You know," said Ares, cheerful again as he threw his arm around the soldier's shoulders, "I like you! Aside from that worship thing, you are smart and know how to use an enemy's weakness against him. Good tactical mind, there."

"Thank you." The soldier gave Ares a unexpectedly broad smile, the defensive posture he had maintained while facing the god relaxing, his arms casually folded.

Ares grinned back. "We should get to know each other better. Let's go to my temple. If you're anything like my Iolaus, I've got a pair of identical twin priestesses you'll find interesting. . ."

***

Iolaus tried to meet the eyes of this living Hercules and found it impossible. He dropped his gaze to study the toes of his shoes. He would have run away but Jason at his back prevented him.

"Um," said this world's Iolaus, "I think I have to go to. . ." He stood up, looked around rather desperately, and said, "the forge." He clapped his hand on his Hercules' shoulder, gave the drunkard a quick nod, and beat a hasty retreat.

Hercules studied the man standing nervously in front of him. Cleaned up, with his face shaved, wearing clothes that belonged to his Iolaus, this Iolaus, in some ways resembled the man he called his companion. Still, the slump of the shoulders, the bowed head, were nothing like his Iolaus.

"Why don't you sit down?"

Iolaus started at the familiar voice. He glanced at Hercules, embarrassed, then looked around. He couldn't imagine sitting next to Hercules on the bench but there was a stool. He sat on that, shifting a little, trying to get it to sit solidly on the uneven ground.

Jason said, softly, "Would you like me to go?"

"No!" Iolaus looked at Jason, aware of how desperate he must look and sound. "No, please. Stay."

Jason patted him reassuringly on the shoulder before sitting next to Hercules. Iolaus managed to look at the two of them, both of them giving him the same, hopeful smile. He swallowed and looked back down at his shaking hands.

"I'm glad," said this Hercules, sounding so like his own, lost friend, "that we're getting a chance to talk."

"I don't. . ." Iolaus tried again, drawing a deep breath. "I don't really know what we have to say to each other. We're strangers, really."

"Maybe. But we have a great deal in common." Hercules sighed. "We've both lost people we cared deeply about."

"When Hercules died. . ." Iolaus looked up at the man sitting on the bench. There were subtle differences. His Hercules had never worn his hair that long and usually wore a brown leather tunic with a gold necklet, given him by Zeus, around his throat. More than that, his Hercules had never gotten to be as old as this man and his Hercules had never carried with him an air of grave sorrow. Iolaus saw such sympathy in those sad eyes, he managed to try again. "When Hercules died, I gave up. I made my wife miserable, I failed my son. I failed. . ." His voice failed and he looked down at the ground, the tears burning in his eyes.

"When Iolaus died," said Hercules, his voice gentle and sad, "and I couldn't get him back, I failed. I failed my friends, my family, everyone who ever counted on me or mattered to me. In my rage and sorrow, I ran away, fled Greece and left Iolaus' soul to damnation."

Iolaus took a deep breath and met this man's eyes. "Jason told me a little about that."

Hercules nodded. "Jason doesn't know the half of it."

The man in question laid his hand on Hercules' arm and said his friend's name softly.

"It's true, Jase. I didn't tell you everything. I didn't tell you how I hoped that everyone I knew was suffering. I couldn't come back here because I knew I would hear someone laughing, find out that world was going on without Iolaus and I couldn't stand it." He shook his head. "It wasn't the grief so much as it was the rage." Hercules clenched his fists unconsciously. "All I felt was anger. Anger at Nebula for being a target. Anger at Gilgamesh for letting himself be deceived. Anger at me. . .for failing Iolaus."

"Anger at Iolaus. . ." prompted Jason, ". . .for dying."

Hercules nodded. "Exactly. Anger at the gods for letting it happen, anger at the world for taking him away and anger at Iolaus for leaving. I know, it doesn't make sense, he didn't want to die but I was so mad at him for leaving me alone, I . . ."

"I know." Iolaus stood up, pacing slowly towards the men on the bench. "I was angry at Hercules for failing. He wasn't supposed to fail. He wasn't supposed to die." He blinked away a tear. "He was supposed to be my friend until I died of old age, then he was supposed to go on forever."

Jason, who had laid a comforting hand on Hercules' thigh, said, to both men, "Sometimes, people who have lost anyone unexpectedly, don't understand that anger is as much a part of grief as sadness and sometimes, that anger is directed at the person causing the grief. The person who died. Even when Alcmene died, a peaceful death at the end of happy life, I was still mad at her for leaving me alone again."

Hercules winced. "Jason was one of the people I abandoned after Iolaus' death and it wasn't my finest hour." 

"Hercules. . . " Jason gave him a sad smile. "We understood."

"Do you think. . ." Iolaus took a deep breath as he wiped his face with his sleeve. "Do you think my Hercules would understand?"

"Was he a good person?" Hercules asked gently.

Iolaus nodded, gulping as he tried to control himself. "He was. . .He was the best. I was nothing before I met him. I was. . .my father never thought much of me and. . ."

It was Jason who added, "So you didn't think much of yourself. Our Iolaus had the same problem."

Gnawing at his lip, Iolaus managed to look at Jason and Hercules again. "Hercules made me believe in myself. That I could accomplish something with my life. That I was worth something. And when he died. . .I proved him wrong."

He had turned away as the tears welled up again, as the shame filled his heart, but before he could run away, he felt strong arms wrap around him, felt himself held in a warm, safe and strangely familiar embrace. He let this world's Hercules hug him as he wept. 

"If your Hercules," said the deep, rumbling voice above him, "was a decent man, he would understand. Grief does terrible things to a person's soul. Terrible."

It took considerable effort but Iolaus got his churning emotions under control enough to pull reluctantly away from Hercules, who let him go with another sad smile. Iolaus even managed to give him one in return.

"I made so many mistakes that I can never correct."

Hercules nodded and Iolaus was struck, again, with how solemn and serious this Hercules was. "You can't go back in time and fix your mistakes." When Jason made a odd, snorting noise, Hercules gave the other man a sharp look. "At least, not most of the time. But you can decide to stop making those same mistakes over and over."

"My wife will never have me back." Iolaus, his knees suddenly weak, sat down on the stool again. "Not after what I did. And my son . . .he must hate me."

Jason said, "How old is your son?"

Iolaus blinked at the unexpected question. "Um. . .he's ten. I haven't seen in almost five years."

"I was eighteen before I met my father," said Hercules as he sat down next to Jason again. "I would have been happy to see him any time long before that. I imagine your son would be happy to see you again."

"Provided you came back as his father," added Jason. "And even if your wife and son aren't happy to see you now, you can spend the next ten years proving Hercules was right about you. You can support them and love them and let them decide if they want you in their life."

"Maybe." Iolaus shrugged.

"I can't ever make up for the things I did while my Iolaus was dead." Hercules' voice was tight with strain. "But I learned from those mistakes. Most importantly. . ." His voice trailed off. "Most importantly, Iolaus forgave me. I don't know if it helps but, as a Hercules, even if not your Hercules, I forgive you. As I said, I've been down that path and I know how dark it is."

It wasn't his Hercules sitting across from him. It was a stranger who bore a resemblance to the Hercules he had loved. Still. Iolaus sighed. One thing this bizarre trip into someone else's world had shown him was that Iolaus and Hercules were connected, no matter where they were.

'Thank you," said Iolaus. He pressed his hand to his chest, surprised at the feeling there. He waved Jason away as the other man reacted to what must have shown in Iolaus' face. "Thank you, Hercules." He shook his head, laughing weakly. "That does help. It doesn't make up for everything. . ." Iolaus looked this other Hercules in the eye and smiled. "But it does help."

***  
Iolaus wasn't asleep but neither was he awake. He had spent the afternoon that way, drifting in and out, barely coughing, his breathing shallow. The centaur had given him something but Iolaus suspected it wasn't the drug that made him feel so detached from his body. He suspected he was dying. He had asked and was told Hades was the God of the Underworld here. Sometimes, when someone walked by the door or spoke in the hallway, he would open his eyes, expecting to see that god or one of his servants there.

He heard someone enter the room and he opened his eyes enough to see Hercules, a lamp in one hand and a bowl of soup in the other.

"Hello," Iolaus said, unable to raise his voice above a whisper.

"I don't want to wake you but Neron wanted to see if you could eat something."

Iolaus wanted to say "no" but this Hercules looked so hopeful that he nodded. He wasn't hungry but he could probably manage a few swallows for Hercules' sake. Iolaus watched the other man pull a chair over and sit down, setting down the lamp so he could take up the spoon.

"I've very good at this," Hercules said, trying to sound cheerful. "Iolaus is always getting hurt and I end up feeding him."

Iolaus smiled. "Your Iolaus is a lucky man."

"No," replied Hercules, holding out the spoon so Iolaus could take a cautious sip, "I'm the lucky one."

He didn't manage to eat much, just a few spoonfuls, but it made Hercules happy and, truth be told, made Iolaus feel a little better. Maybe he wouldn't die in the night.

Hercules set the bowl aside, then folded his hands as he looked at the sick man. Iolaus waited. Finally, Hercules sighed.

Iolaus, who had let his eyes drift close, opened them again. "What's wrong?"

"Well, it's not really wrong. Actually, it's right. We think we've figured out how to fix things. I had hoped we could end this tonight but the gods still need to. . ." Hercules waved his hand dismissively. "We should be able to solve it tomorrow morning."

"So? I assume the solution involves sending us back. What's wrong with that?"

Hercules studied the floor between his boots, then the wall above Iolaus' bed, then the ceiling and finally, he met Iolaus' eyes. "I know you weren't treated well in that place. I hate to send you back. Maybe, if you get decent care, you'll get over this and. . ."

Iolaus lifted his hand and laid it gently on Hercules' arm, just above the ornate bracelet that wrapped around his gauntlet. "I'm dying, Hercules. Nothing can be done about that. I'll be dead in a day or so whether I die here or in my own world makes no difference."

To Iolaus' surprise, Hercules' eyes filled with tears. The demigod had to blink several times to clear them.

"I know you're not my Iolaus but I still hate to see someone so like him suffering."

Iolaus raised his eyebrows. "Am I like him? I rather thought he was an honorable man."

"All of you are alike in that you all have good hearts."

Iolaus hated to disappoint the big man sitting beside him so comfortingly so he said nothing. He couldn't anyway. All the talking had made him gasp for breath. Hercules went pale and helped him sit up, holding the basin so Iolaus could cough up a little blood. Then Hercules laid Iolaus gently down, carefully wiping his face and brow with a damp cloth scented with lemon.

"Tomorrow morning, before the portal opens on its own," Hercules explained as he bathed the sick man's face and throat, "the gods here will open a portal. Our scholar says he's certain that if each Iolaus goes back through in reverse order, it will tip the scale, so to speak, and everyone will end back where they belong."

"Sounds reasonable," whispered Iolaus, earning a stern glance from Hercules.

"Of course it does. It's the obvious solution. We just need to get all the local gods to cooperate."

"Knowing gods," said Iolaus, "I'll be here until I'm old and grey."

Hercules gave him a weak smile. "See, you're like my Iolaus, always brave and always trying to cheer me up."

Iolaus smiled back but couldn't manage anything else besides slipping into sleep. Hercules sat beside him for some time, continuing to bath the sick man's face with the cool cloth as the tears slid out of Hercules' eyes.

***  
Iolaus was surprised, when Ares returned him to the Academy, to realize so much time had passed it. The sun had set and the moon was well up, which meant the latest addition to their little club had probably arrived. At least it would be the last. Athena had put in an appearance, startled to find an Iolaus with Ares, and asked if Ares would cooperate in the morning. With a grin at the soldier, Ares had informed his sister that he would be delighted to. Athena had left soon after, so obviously baffled that both man and god had laughed.

There was an Iolaus sitting at the table in the courtyard, alone, holding a cup in his hands and frowning into it. The soldier approached him cautiously. For lack of anything else to say, Iolaus said, "Are you the new one?"

The other Iolaus raised his head. "No. I was here before. I'm . . ." His voice trailed off and he looked embarrassed.

"Oh." The soldier sat down and checked the contents of the pitcher on the table, surprised to find it contained some sort of herbal tea. "You're the drunk."

"Yeah. And you're the soldier."

They stared at each other for a moment. The soldier couldn't help but notice that the drunk was sober, his face shaved, his hair neatly combed, and he was wearing a clean linen tunic, woolen trousers and a pair of scuffed boots.

The soldier finally broke the silence. "So, is there another one?"

A smile flickered across the other's face and he actually chuckled. "Oh, yes. There is."

"What is he? A cithera boy?"

"No." The other Iolaus laughed again. "The new Iolaus is a warrior who travels Greece at Hercules' side, righting wrongs, slaying monsters, protecting the innocent."

The soldier narrowed his eyes. He was certain the man across the table from him was sober. There was no smell of alcohol about him, his eyes were clear, his speech precise. So what was so funny?

"So," said the soldier, "what makes the new Iolaus different from the one here?"

"Not much, except great breasts."

"What?"

"She has great breasts." The smile on the other man's face grew broader.

"The new Iolaus is a girl?"

The other Iolaus replied, cocking his head to one side. "No, I'd say she was a woman. Very definitely a grown up woman."

"Great." The soldier snorted in disgust. "Us in a dress."

"No, she's better looking than that. Great figure, too. Do you have a sister?"

The soldier frowned at old memories. "No. Not any more. They both died years ago."

"Well, my sisters are both attractive women but this new Iolaus is even prettier. Still, she definitely reminds me of my sisters."

Suddenly, the soldier found himself laughing as well. "Does that mean Hercules is a woman, too?"

"Yes, but the new Iolaus assured us she is a handsome woman."

"Good, because Hercules in a dress would not be a pretty sight."

They both laughed, relaxing a little at their shared amusement. 

"Not quite as square jawed," said the former drunk, sipping his tea. "Iolaus says Hercules is as much a woman as she is."

"Does that mean everyone is the opposite sex?" The idea rather intrigued the soldier, as he turned it over in his mind.

Iolaus laughed and nodded. "So I gather. Zeus is Hercules' mother, the Queen of the Gods. Ares is the Goddess of War. . .no beard, thankfully. . .and has a crush on Hercules."

The soldiers laughed again, shaking his head, aware that he sounded a little hysterical. "This has been. . ."

"Yes, it has."

The laughter died down and the two men studied each other again. The night was cool without being cold, a relief from a warm day. The sound of someone at the Academy singing was carried on the light breeze. After a moment enjoying the quiet of the courtyard, the soldier stood up to leave when he remembered something. 

"You have a son, don't you?"

The former drunk looked as if the soldier had slapped him, shocked and hurt. "Yes, if it's any of your business."

"It isn't, not really." The soldier noticed the little rocking horse set in the corner. He raised his eyes to meet the gaze of the man across from him. How strange, to look into a eyes so much like his. "My son died. I was a lousy husband and a worse father, never had time for my wife and son. I was always too busy fighting somewhere. I was a fool to get married but I guess I hoped. . ." He took a deep breath. "I guess I wanted my own piece of immortality. I wanted to leave something behind after I was gone besides piles of bodies." He shook his head, biting his lips. "I failed my wife and son. They were murdered because of me."

The other Iolaus gasped, one hand reaching out instinctively. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. . ."

"No." The soldier sat up, pulling his hand away. "When you get back home tomorrow, no matter how lousy a father you've been up until now, you still have a chance to be a father." He blinked, surprised to find tears in his eyes. He hadn't wept in a long time. "Even if your wife chases you off with a broom, even if your son spits on you, you go back to them and you be the husband and father they need, because you can. Do you understand?"

Iolaus nodded. "Yes, I do." He laughed weakly. "You know, this has been a very strange experience. . .but it's also been the best thing to happen to me in ten years."

The soldier turned away, trying to school his features back into their usual grim cast. "Me, too. Odd, but true." He hesitated a moment as he tried to remember something. "Where's the new one? The woman?"

Grinning, the other Iolaus said, "She wandered off with this world's Iolaus. My guess is, he is giving new meaning to the term 'playing with yourself.'"

The soldier sighed. "That man is a lecher and a fool."

"True, but he's the luckiest one of all of us."

"Yes," said the soldier, tugging his cloak over his shoulder as he went inside, "he is"

***

She shook her head. She wore her blonde hair cut short, shorter even than his own, but otherwise was wearing what was essentially a feminine version of his clothes. Her patched vest laced across her chest and her amulet, while similar to his, was smaller again by half and she wore it on a short cord close to the base of her throat. Otherwise, she had the same patched trousers--although they fit differently--the same gauntlets, even the same earrings.

"This is so weird," she said, leaning against the tree and looking over at her counterpart. It was odd, to see him wearing clothes so like her own. He had suggested they leave the guest house, if only because Jason kept laughing whenever he looked at her. She agreed, if only because it was easier to deal with one male version of herself rather than half a dozen.

"Tell me about it," said Iolaus. He had brought a lantern with him, and a couple of cloaks, just in case they were out late. She wore one cloak, although it had slipped half off her shoulders. She was sitting where he usually sat, just where the trunk of the tree curved inward. He was sitting, cross-legged, facing her, just where Hercules often sat, half leaning against a fallen trunk.

"So, there's you. . ." She held up an index finger.

"Me. I'm the original to this world."

"Then there's a mermaid who used to be a jester."

"Merman."

"Right." She shook her head again. "The idea that you and Hercules and Jason are all men is so. . ."

"No stranger than finding out Zeus is Herc's mother. And Ares as a woman. . ."

She laughed, holding up her finger again. "Merman, the thief with consumption, the drunk that Jason is drying out, the little girl's . . .father. . .the soldier I didn't get to meet, the genius and now me. Eight of you. Us." She threw her hands up dramatically. "Whatever!"

"Now you see why Hercules doesn't look well. I don't think he's handling the strain."

"No, I can't see my Hercules handling it well, either. Still, better than me dying again."

They had been exchanging memories, surprised at first to find their lives so closely paralleled each other, now more stunned as they realized how much alike they were: the same lovers, the same friends, the same adventures, even the same deaths.

"Yeah." Iolaus said as he shifted, pulling his cloak closer. "He doesn't handle my dying very well."

"You'd think she'd get used to," said the woman, mimicking the man's actions. "But I guess I was gone so long the last time and Gilgamesh. . ."

Their eyes met and they both shuddered, not from the cold. Iolaus made a decision. He moved over to sit next to this new version of himself. Although he liked the metalsmith and would be happy to call him friend, he had no desire to be as close to him as he wanted to be with this female echo. She leaned against him, sighing.

"I loved Nebula, even if I only knew him a short time. I was so afraid of having to decide, whether to stay with him as his consort, or leave with Hercules and go back to Greece, I sometimes wonder if I threw myself in front of that knife to avoid the decision."

Iolaus pulled away and looked at her, horror in his eyes. "You, too," he breathed, shivering again.

She reached for him and he went willingly. They wrapped their arms around each other, whispering words they had never dared speak to anyone, even their respective Hercules.

"I worry about failing him. . ."

"Letting her down. She sees me as so much more than I see myself. . ."

"He believes in me, even when I can't believe in myself. . ."

"I love her more than I have ever loved anyone. . ."

"He's the other half of my soul. I can't imagine life without him. . ."

"But there is still this empty spot in my heart. . ."

"And I don't know if I'll ever be completely happy. . ."

"But as long as we're together. . ."

"I'll count myself the luckiest person alive. . ."

They finished together, warm breath against each other's cheek. Their eyes met in the lantern light, and then their lips, and then they discovered they were both very good at getting undressed very quickly.

Afterwards, they lay wrapped up in the cloaks, golden skin against golden skin, fingers tracing matching scars, giggling as they remembered how some were acquired, sorrowing a little at others.

***

Hercules opened his eyes a crack, trying to judge if he could get up now. He hadn't done more than doze for a few minutes for the last few nights, waiting until the sky had started to grow light with the approach of dawn, then climbing out of bed. The past two nights, he and Iolaus had spent some time talking about the strange situation of multiple Iolausi but tonight, Iolaus had come in very late, said curtly to Hercules, "Don't ask." and promptly fallen asleep.

He looked over at the other bed. Iolaus was sleeping fully clothed, face down. Hercules was glad. Iolaus had been under a great deal of strain as well and needed his sleep. Although the reason for his finally being able to sleep disturbed Hercules on some level he couldn't quite fathom.

The moment she had stood, sword in hand, Hercules had been stunned. Of all the variations of his friend, he had never expected a woman. Especially an attractive woman so like his Iolaus and yet, very much an attractive female.

His headache, which had retreated a little upon learning that Ares had agreed to cooperate, was back full force. Let's just not think about the female Iolaus, all right? said some part of him and the rest agreed. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly and deeply. By noon today, everyone would be back where they belonged. The face of the dying Iolaus flickered through his mind and he sighed. Unfortunately, that might not be the best for some of them.

His acute hearing picked up a sound beyond that of Iolaus breathing. Someone was in the grey, pre-dawn light of the courtyard, moving quietly but definitely moving. If someone else was up, even it was only one of the boys who had earned enough demerits to be assigned night soil duties, Hercules decided he could get up. He slid out of bed and dressed quickly. Iolaus grunted once, when Hercules dropped a boot, but didn't wake.

It was the scholar, wearing nothing but a white loincloth, moving in slow, precise gestures that Hercules recognized as an exercise his Iolaus had learned in the East. He faced the rising sun as he bent and shifted, waving his arms in some mysterious pattern that Hercules had never quite grasped. He finished, coming back to rest on his slightly parted feet, as Iolaus did, then turned and smiled at Hercules.

"I know, I know," this Iolaus said very softly, "It looks damn silly but it's a great way to get the blood flowing."

"My Iolaus does it sometimes."

"Really?" The scholar raised his eyebrows. "Amazing, isn't it?"

Hercules tried not to sigh as he said, "Yeah, I guess it is."

The scholar chuckled as he pulled on his chiton. "We have been talking it over, some of us, and have come to the conclusion that while this is the most bizarre thing to ever happen to any us, it has also been the most enlightening."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. I know that it has forced me to reevaluate some of the decisions that I have made with my life of late."

Would his Iolaus have been like this wide-eyed pedant, had he accepted Athena's bribe instead of Aphrodite's? As difficult as that whole golden apple mess had been, Hercules was suddenly grateful that Iolaus' libido had won out over his brain.

Politely, Hercules asked, "And what decisions are those?"

"My school." The scholar frowned. "I was so amazed with my own intelligence that I just had to share it with the world." He shook his head. "And once I was there, I had to put up with people like Socrates who kept telling me the same thing, that all Greece deserved to share in my brilliance." To Hercules' surprise, the scholar then made a rude noise. "My ego."

The conversation was interrupted by the soldier coming out of the common room, scratching himself and yawning. "Oh, it's you." He rolled his head around his neck. "I'm looking forward to getting home and getting a decent night's sleep."

Hercules made a sympathetic sound. "The baby keeping you awake?"

The soldier snorted. "No, she sleeps through the night. It's her father that's the problem. He's up every couple of hours, wandering around. Says it habit from all those kids, he has to get up every few hours and make sure everything is all right. Damned annoying, that's all I can say." The soldier yawned again, and wandered off in the direction of the privies, still muttering to himself.

The scholar chuckled and shook his head.

"You were saying something about decisions," prompted Hercules.

"Oh, yeah." Iolaus sighed, ducking his head as if embarrassed. "As I was saying, I was so impressed with myself that I decided what I needed to do with myself was start a school. Which I did. It's just outside of Athens and all the best minds come there to debate and learn." He looked up, a sly smile on his face. "I am so sick of Socrates' endless debates that I keep imagining ways to shut him up. Oh, nothing really painful, just give him some really gooey fig paste so his teeth stick together, something like that.

The scholar's face grew solemn again. "Coming here has made me realize that I have a bond with Hercules that goes beyond mere friendship, is more than a partnership, is closer than the closest lovers." He waved his hand, encompassing all the guest houses. "Our destiny is to be together and I walked away from that. All the suffering I see, from one Iolaus to another, is caused because that Iolaus and that Hercules aren't the way they're meant to be. Hercules is dead, or a god, or a stranger."

Or a madman, thought Hercules, but he didn't express that out loud. He had given this Iolaus a brief description of the Sovereign and had no desire to add details. How much had that version of Iolaus suffered at the hands of that version of Hercules? That was something Hercules occasionally dwelled on during dark days and he didn't want to go there now. He turned his attention firmly back to the scholar.

"Anyway, I 've decided that as soon as I get back home, I'm going to turn the school over to that blowhard Socrates and I'm going back to my Hercules. Get my sword out from under my bed, find my friend and do what I'm supposed to be doing."

Hercules nodded. "I suspect your Hercules will be glad to see you."

"I hope so." Iolaus sighed. "It has been several years but he hasn't gotten a new partner so maybe he'll still take me back."

For an instant, Hercules saw in the scholar the same uncertainty he still saw in his Iolaus, that belief that he wasn't quite good enough to be the companion of the son of Zeus. 

"I'm sure your Hercules will be delighted," Hercules said firmly.

"Your Hercules will be delighted by what?" It was his Iolaus, looking as grumpy as the soldier. "What's so funny?"

Hercules just shook his head and waved his friend away. There was no way he was going to explain that Iolaus was scratching himself in exactly the same way as another Iolaus had been. 

***

They were eating breakfast, Hercules, Jason and Iolaus, Iolaus, Iolaus, Iolaus, Iolaus, and Iolaus. Only the sick member of their group remained in his room. Neron had found a small cart, lined it with blankets and hitched up a donkey to carry the dying man back up the hill, since he couldn't possibly walk that far. He had brought the cart, along with some broth and medicine to make the trip easier.

They had all been quite cheerful that morning, teasing Iolaus and the female version about their resemblance, comparing notes on all the assorted people they knew. Hercules had learned that Salmoneous was a king; a priest of Ares, God of Music; a general in charge of the armies of the Attic alliance; a schoolteacher and a famous poet. In the female Iolaus' world, he was the same Salmoneous only, she assured everyone, he had no beard.

The air sparkled pink and Aphrodite stepped out of it, flinging her arms wide and exclaiming, "A sweetcheeks smorgasbord!"

All six Iolauses looked very puzzled, even the one who was used to being addressed as "sweetcheeks."

"Um," said that Iolaus, "What is a smorgasbord?"

"Never mind. Ooo, this is too gorgeous."

"That's Aphrodite?" said the soldier, looking as if he just swallowed something down the wrong way.

"That's me, honey," she responded, fluffing her hair. "What's the problem?"

"In my world, you're the patron goddess of virgins and innocents and, well, dress a little differently."

"Really?" Since Aphrodite loved talking about herself and discussions of fashions, she was ready to find out all the details. "Do tell!"

The soldier looked embarrassed as he stuttered, "Ah, she wears all white and you can't see through it and it covers up everything. Even her face."

Aphrodite scrunched up her face and shuddered. "E-yew." She threw her arms wide and announced, "This is a service to those who appreciate beauty. I've got it and I've got to show it."

There was some more coughing among the Iolauses. Hercules managed to glare at everyone single one of them, even the female version, before saying to Aphrodite, "What can we do for you?"

"Oh? It's almost time. We should be heading up the hill." She pretended to frown and pouted prettily. "Still, it seems a shame to send them all back." She pointed at the scholar. "Can we at least keep him? I like how he dresses."

There was more coughing. Hercules gave Aphrodite a dark look. "We'll meet you at the top of the hill in a few minutes."

Hercules left the cluster of Iolauses in the courtyard and went to see the dying man. He found him sitting up, sipping something from a mug that Neron held for him.

"It's time," said Hercules uncomfortably.

The sick man smiled. "Good." He coughed, lightly. "I'm ready."

Hercules bent and picked Iolaus up, keeping the blanket wrapped securely around him, and carried him out to the cart. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes again as he looked at the head resting on his shoulder, the face so pale and thin. He blinked them away as he carried the man out to the cart.

"I'm sorry," Hercules whispered, laying his burden down as gently as possible.

Iolaus shook his head. "Don't be. I really am ready."

The other Iolauses had started walking up the hill. Hercules took the halter of the donkey in one hand and started after them. When they reached the top, Aphrodite was waiting for them, practically bouncing up and down with excitement as she inspected each one. When she was done, the scholar lined them up, in order, with the female Iolaus at the end. Hercules looked away when his Iolaus gave her a resounding kiss farewell.

"Now," said the scholar in a voice accustomed to lecturing, "The gods will open the vortex a few minutes before the one would arrive by itself. We'll go back through it in the same order we came out. Our own world should have a natural affinity for us and we should end up where we belong. Any questions?"

"Wait." The metalsmith handed his daughter to the startled soldier. He stepped out of line and faced the former drunkard. "You can't go back to your wife like that. Here." He pulled the garnet and gold fibula that was holding his cloak closed and started to hand it to the protesting man. "Yes, you can take it. In fact. . ." Iolaus unslung the wooden rocking horse he was wearing on his back, took his cloak off and swung it around the other Iolaus' shoulders. The cloak was fine spun wool, dyed a deep blue, and the other Iolaus ran his hands over it.

"I can't take this," he protested, even as the metalsmith pinned the cloak. "You need it."

The metalsmith grinned. "I have others at home. Take it, I insist."

The other Iolauses all added their voices to the chorus, as did Jason and Hercules. Blushing, the former drunkard finally nodded his head in acceptance. He started to adjust the cloak. As he did, the metalsmith grabbed at his hands.

"Here." The metalsmith pulled off his copper bracelets and started to put them on the other man's wrists.

"Now this is too much!" protested Iolaus as he tried to avoid the gifts. "I can't possibly take so much. . ."

"You can," said the metalsmith firmly, "And you will. You have a son to support. I have five children and I know how much it takes to feed them. Those bracelets aren't worth much but you can sell them. . .wait." He reached up and tugged his hair free of the clasp that held it. "This is more valuable. Take it, too."

Before the man could argue, the soldier suddenly said, "Take them. For your family."

The former drunk bit his lip and nodded. "For them."

The metalsmith wasn't done yet. He unfastened the belt at his waist that held his elegant dagger. Even as the recipient tried to protest again, the metalsmith wrapped the belt around his waist and fastened it.

"I don't need a dagger for anything more than cutting my meat," said the metalsmith, picking up the rocking horse and hanging it off his back before taking his daughter into his arms. "And with the all the children, Deianaira cuts mine automatically half the time anyway."

The scholar suddenly leaned forward. "You are married to Deianaira? How did that. . .oh, never mind. Wait until I tell Hercules!"

The warrior on the end laughed. "Will your Hercules believe all this?" She waved her hand to indicate the row of men. "I think mine will drag me off to see Apollo." At the blank looks from several of them, she added, "The Goddess of Medicine."

Before they could continue their conversation, the air flashed blue and two more gods put in their appearance. Ares was dressed in his usual black leather, although he had left his sword at home. Athena wore a long, grey gown and her winged crown, which made her look wise.

The warrior nudged the scholar. "You know, Ares looks better as a man than he does as a woman."

"All right, people," bellowed the god under discussion. "Let's get this show on the road. I have a battle in Thrace this afternoon and I do not want to be late."

Hercules helped the thief out of the cart. The man gave him another smile and pulled away. In truth, he felt quite a bit better this morning, perhaps because he had now seen Aphrodite in person. He found himself looking forward to meeting his Goddess of the Underworld. She'd probably wear black, he thought as he took his place in the line, but, with luck, not much of it.

Each god held out a hand and three bolts of lightning flew out, joined together and began to spin, creating the vortex between worlds.

"Hey!" Iolaus stepped out from behind Hercules. His counterparts all turned and looked at him expectantly. The same expression on the similar faces almost made him laugh. Instead, he said, "It's been, well, not nice meeting you, necessarily, but interesting. I'm glad I met all of you." He waved at Mene, who chortled and waved back. "Good luck getting home."

"Can we get on with this?" Ares shouted. "Battle. In Thrace. Time's a wasting."

"Right." The scholar was taking charge again. "Wait until the Iolaus ahead of you has vanished into the vortex and is no longer visible, then run." He tapped the woman warrior beside him on the shoulder. "Go."

With a whoop, Iolaus the woman sprinted forward, bounced into the air and did a forward somersault in mid-air as she was sucked into the vortex. The wind was howling now, managing to pull and push at the same time so everyone, save the gods, staggered a little. Unconsciously, Hercules put an arm around his Iolaus to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

When the first Iolaus vanished, the scholar gave the others a jaunty wave and ran straight into the whirlwind. The soldier gave them a quick salute, winked and waved at Ares, who winked back, drew his sword, and adjusted his shield. The figure of the scholar had shrunk to vanishing as the soldier marched firmly forward. Iolaus and Mene each waved goodbye, then he adjusted the hang of the toy horse on his back, wrapped his arms protectively around his child and ran into the whirlwind.

"Thank you," cried the former drunk. "Thank you all so much!" He ran forward and dived into the vortex.

The thief turned, gave Aphrodite a last look, then mouthed the words he couldn't possibly shout loud enough to be heard above the wind. He said thank you, as well, before he closed his eyes and let himself be pulled into the vortex, the same way he had three days before.

The vortex closed behind him with a whoosh. The three gods staggered back a little.

"Thank you," said Hercules, loosening his grip on his Iolaus but not letting him go. "I just hope they all got home all right."

"Yeah, yeah," said Ares. "I don't suppose you would have let me keep the soldier."

It was Iolaus who replied, "No. He had to get home to his God of War."

Ares made a face. "Hercules as the God of War. What a mess that world must be." He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Well, fun's fun but I got some bloodshed to attend to. Coming, 'Thenie?"

Athena gave Ares a dark look. "I'll be there."

"Fine. Then my side gets to go first." With that, Ares vanished.

"Aw," pouted Aphrodite, "All those Iolauses were just so cute. And the fat one, with the little girl, he was darling!"

Iolaus glared at her. "He wasn't fat. He could stand to lose a few pounds but he was not fat."

"All right." She waved her hands dismissively. "Pleasingly plump. Whatever. I didn't like the one Ares liked but I liked the others."

Athena cleared her throat. "The important thing is, they are gone."

Hercules looked at the spot where the vortex had appeared. "I wonder if they all got home all right."


	3. And then there were two

*** 

"IOLAUS!" Hercules frowned. Her partner had disappeared from camp last night. She had been worried enough, she had even asked her aunt if Iolaus was in the Hades' realm but had been told Iolaus hadn't been there in quite some time. Hercules' mother had shown up about then, to tell the demigod that her partner and friend had vanished from Greece and no one knew where.

That wasn't going to stop Hercules. She had lost Iolaus before and gotten her back and she wasn't giving up now.

A sudden gust of wind blew at her back, sending her staggering forward. An instant later, a familiar weight crashed into her and knocked her to the ground. They both rolled, so that Hercules ended up on top of Iolaus, who was grinning broadly.

"Ah, Herc," cried Iolaus, throwing her arms around her friend's neck and hugging her close. "It's good to be back."

"Back?" Hercules gave Iolaus a hug back, then pushed herself up on her elbows. "Where have you been?"

Iolaus giggled, brushing Hercules' hair back from her face. "You are not going to believe this but remember that alternate world with the Sovereign and the Emperor? Well, I just found out there are lots and lots and LOTS of alternate worlds?"

Hercules sat up, moving off her smaller partner. From the look on her face, Iolaus figured Hercules was wondering if Iolaus had gotten a bad bump on the head.

"Really?" Hercules still sounded doubtful.

"Really! I met six different Iolauses and there was a mermaid Iolaus, too, just like here only. . ." She grinned broadly, delighted to deliver the punchline. "They are all MEN!"

"What?"

"It's true! In this world, everyone that is a woman here is a man there! Oh, and there were a bunch of Iolauses that had gotten sucked out of their worlds and spit into this one and all of them were men, too!"

"Uh-huh. Why don't you begin at the beginning?"

Iolaus did the best she could, explaining how she had been walking along the ridge above the Academy when a miniature whirlwind appeared and sucked her in. Hercules stopped her several times to ask questions, gradually coming to the conclusion that Iolaus was telling the truth.

"So since last night, you were in this alternate world with all these alternate Iolauses and they were all. . .men."

Iolaus nudged her friend. "Cute men." She giggled. "More than cute. Gorgeous." 

Hercules' eyes went wide. "IOLAUS! You didn't? You did!"

"Hey, he was adorable and dressed just like me, except his vest was open and he had the sexiest chest. . ."

Hercules shook her head, running her hands through her hair. "Sometimes, I really wonder if you are completely sane."

"If you had seen the guy Hercules, you'd have been jumping his bones, too. He was really hot." At her friend's glare, Iolaus added, "All right, maybe not YOU but you would have thought about it. Oh, and Ares makes a very sexy man." Iolaus gave a little shiver. "I mean, grade Alpha you-know-whatable. Woof."

At the look of sheer lust on Iolaus' face, Hercules burst out laughing. "All right, all right. Mom said you had completely disappeared from Greece and Auntie Hades said you weren't in the Underworld so I guess. . .you were off screwing yourself."

Iolaus slapped herself in the forehead. "Hey, I can prove it." She unfastened her trousers and pushed the waist band down far enough to expose a mark on her buttock. "See," she said triumphantly, "he does exactly the same thing I do. I left him with one as well."

"Does he makes chipmunk noises, too?"

Iolaus screamed with laughter, as she tried to lunge at Hercules but was defeated by her unfastened pants. In the end, she just fell back on the grass as she struggled with pulling her pants back up.

"He makes wonderful noises. He was wonderful. And the weird thing was, we were exactly alike. He had the same scars, the same past, the same thoughts. . ." Iolaus sighed. "It's probably a good thing he lives far away."

"Or you'd be popping out blonde babies once a year."

"Yeah." Iolaus giggled again. "They'd be darned cute." Her face grew solemn. "Exactly like me, only everybody that was a woman here is a man there."

Hercules reached out a brushed a curl back from Iolaus' brow. "Well, I'm glad you're back."

Iolaus threw her arms around Hercules' neck again. "So am I!"

***  
Iolaus landed rather ungracefully. He stood up, brushing off his knees.

"Iolaus!" 

It was Socrates, huffing up the rise, waving his hands. 

"Iolaus! Where have you been? We've been looking all over for you since yesterday."

"Remember that conversation we had about alternate planes of existence?" Iolaus tugged at his chiton, which he realized had ridden up during the sprint through the vortex. "I was right."

Socrates stopped, catching his breath. "Hercules. . .Hercules dropped by around midday yesterday." He wiped his face with the edge of his toga. "He's out looking for you as well as all the students. We've been frantic. . ."

"You know, I used to be a warrior. I can take of myself." Iolaus realized he sounded very irritated and tried again. "I'm sorry I worried everyone. Let's walk back and I'll tell you about it."

Iolaus found himself repeating the story several times, first to Socrates, then to Hercules, who was organizing another round of search parties when Iolaus arrived back at the garden. The teachers and students all crowded around their master, who explained, as patiently as he could manage, that he was quite all right, that he would tell them more details later, and he wanted to talk to Hercules.

Hercules stood off to one side, looking uncomfortable. Iolaus sighed. Hercules always looked that way when he dropped by to visit. It wasn't that Hercules wasn't capable of holding his own in any conversation among the scholars at Iolaus' school, he was an intelligent, well educated man; it was that for Hercules, life wasn't just to be studied and talked about, discussed and argued, it was to be lived. There was another reason, as well, for Hercules' discomfort, that Iolaus hated to admit to himself. Hercules was always rather sad when he visited.

"Come on," said Iolaus, dragging Hercules out of the formal gardens. "Let's get away from here."

"So," Hercules said, trying to sound bright and cheerful, the way he always did when he dropped by the school, "You were in an alternate universe. I imagine you'll have lots of interesting insights to share. . ."

"Herc."

Hercules stopped. It had been a long time since Iolaus had called him by that affectionate nickname.

"Yes?"

"I came away with one important insight from my experience." He looked his old friend in the eye. "In every world, we are meant to be together. The Iolauses that were unhappy were unhappy because they didn't have a relationship with their Hercules. One was dead. . .Hercules, I mean. . .or near strangers. But for the others, especially for the Hercules and Iolaus that belonged in that world, the bond between them was the only thing that really mattered."

Hercules swallowed against the lump in his throat, trying very hard not to sound too hopeful, too desperate. "So that means. . ."

"That means that when Aphrodite made me smarter, she made me an idiot at the same time." Iolaus ran his hands through his hair as he tried to smile. "I never, ever should have given up what we had."

Hercules drew in a shaky breath. "Are you saying. . ."

"I'm saying I am sick to death of this damn school!" Iolaus grinned as he heard how vehement he sounded. "I'm sick of Socrates, arguing his way around everything, even what he plans to have for supper. " He shook his head. "I really do appreciate Aphrodite's gift and, in honesty, I wouldn't give it back but there needs to be a balance in my life. I gave up everything to teach and maybe it's time to take some of that back. Maybe it's time I spent some time with my physical side, you could say, rather than just my intellectual."

"Oh," said Hercules, cautiously. "So?"

Iolaus turned to look at the garden, where a dozen old men in white robes were arguing with two dozen young men in white chitons. They were all pale aesthetics, brilliant for the most part, full of ideas and concepts and theorems and they bored him all to tears.

"I'm turning the school over to Socrates. Then I'm getting my sword out from under my bed, getting my old clothes out of storage, and getting back to where I belong." He tilted his head to look up at Hercules. "If you'll have me, that is."

"Have you!" Hercules laughed, breathlessly, as he reached out and pulled Iolaus into a crushing embrace, burying his face in his friend's curls. "Oh, Iolaus, I've wanted you back for so long but I thought you liked it here."

"No." Iolaus found it hard to speak with his face squashed against his friend's chest so he pushed back, not completely out of Hercules' embrace, just far enough that he could talk. "I've never really enjoyed it but I had this stupid idea I should share my brilliance with the world. Greece doesn't need another scholar. Greece has plenty of those. What Greece needs is a pair of wandering heroes, like us."

"Like us!" Hercules was grinning broadly as he hugged Iolaus again. "I like the sound of that. In fact, I think that's the smartest thing you've ever said. And you can always come back and give guest lectures in the wintertime."

"That," said Iolaus, as he remembered freezing nights by the inadequate warmth of a fire, "Proves you're the one with the real brains in this team."

And they the both laughed, while the Socrates and the students watched from the garden and discussed the meaning of it all.

***

Iolaus had barely stumbled out of the blue swirl of the vortex between worlds when he felt himself grabbed by the forearms. He relaxed instantly, recognizing both the near crushing grip and the surge of warmth from that place inside that connected him to his god.

"Iolaus," gasped Hercules, God of War, giving his friend a quick hug before pushing him away and studying him through narrowed eyes. "Where in Tartarus have you been?"

"I told you," said a familiar voice from behind Hercules, "He wasn't in Tartarus." Ares stepped out from behind his younger brother and gave Iolaus a warm, welcoming smile.

It was a disconcerting feeling, to see these old friends again, after spending the last two days with their counterparts. Still, Iolaus was glad to see Ares in his accustomed long coat and Hercules in his bronze breastplate, both gods with full beards, the way Iolaus was used to seeing them.

"Would you believe," replied Iolaus, pulling gently away from Hercules' painful embrace, "I've been in an alternate world?"

"What?" Hercules looked baffled but Ares nodded sagely.

"I've heard about those," said the God of the Underworld. "Worlds where everyone is the same but different."

Hercules glared at his brother. "How come I've never heard about this?"

Ares waved his hand dismissively. "I don't think anyone has thought about it much in centuries. Ages ago, Athena was experimenting with some technique for forging lightning bolts and created this. . .hole. One of her minions went through it and found himself in a place that was much like here, with the same people in it, only everyone was in a different role. Athena was goddess of the hunt or wine or something peculiar." He stared off into space for a minute, frowning as he remembered. "I wasn't involved but a few of the others took a look. Then Zeus got all paranoid and forbade anyone from opening the passage."

Hercules turned back to Iolaus. "So how did you get there?"

Iolaus sighed and said, "Long story," then tried to give as concise a version of his last two days as was possible. When he mentioned Ares was the God of War in that world, Ares, God of the Underworld, muttered something under his breath. Hercules listened to it all, only saying "You're joking," or shaking his head now and then.

"Half a dozen different Iolauses?" Hercules raised his eyebrows. "Including a woman."

"A damned fine looking woman, I might add." Iolaus gave his friend a tired smile. "It sounds. . .odd but it really was a rather interesting experience. Although I'm glad it's over and I'm back home."

Ares, who had summoned up three chairs so they could sit comfortably, poked his half brother in the arm. "I told you not to panic. I told you Iolaus would be all right." Ares winked at Iolaus. "You know him, Hercules, God of War and Mother Hen. I don't know why he gets that way. I mean, it's not like you can just die or something."

Hercules frowned and looked at Ares. "Of course he can die. He's mortal, remember. You and I are the gods."

"He's immortal, remember?" Ares rolled his eyes. "Not a god but not mortal, either."

"Wait a minute." Iolaus leaned forward, towards the God of the Underworld. "What do you mean, I'm immortal? Since when have I been immortal?"

Ares snorted. "Since I gave you your life back the last time." He looked into the twin pairs of blue eyes that were staring at him. "Didn't I mention that?"

"No," said Hercules, pinching the bridge of his nose. Even as a god, he still got headaches sometimes. "You didn't mention it."

"I must have! I mean, Iolaus knows."

"No, I don't." Iolaus said flatly. 

"Oh." Ares thought it over. "I guess, what with all the confusion, about to launch a war on Apollo and all that, I forgot to mention it. I just thought that Iolaus knew, since he comes to the Underworld so much."

Iolaus narrowed his eyes. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You come and visit me a lot," said Ares by way of an answer. "Didn't it ever occur to you that a mortal couldn't cross back and forth between the Afterlife and the Living World so easily? That only someone immune to death to could do so."

Hercules frowned at the exchange. "What do you mean, he visits the Underworld a lot? Since when?"

Ares shrugged, slouching down in his chair as if embarrassed. "He comes over regularly. We. . .talk, play chess, that sort of thing. He gets lonely."

"Iolaus. . ." Hercules said sadly, "Why didn't you tell me you were lonely?"

Iolaus squirmed in his chair. "You're busy. God of War, remember? I can't be bothering you every time I'm bored or have trouble sleeping."

Hercules sighed. "Yeah, but you're still my friend. I wish I knew. I could make time for you. You know you're important to me. . ."

"You're the God of War." Iolaus said. "You have more important things to do than entertain me."

"You shouldn't be the God of War."

Iolaus and Hercules both turned, eyebrows raised, and looked at Ares, who had muttered those words.

"No, " said Hercules sadly. "Probably not but there isn't much we can do about it now."

"Yes, there is" Ares sat up. "Hercules, I'm sorry we stuck you with the job. If Zeus didn't spend all his time contemplating time and infinity and his navel or whatever it is he thinks about and paid attention to the world in his charge, none of this would have happened. Apollo would have been dealt with ages ago and you and Iolaus could have lived the life you were meant to."

"It's all right, Ares. Iolaus and have sort of gotten used to it. Although I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately. . ."

Ares cut him off with a sharp gesture. "It is not all right! We took advantage of you when we forced you to take over Apollo's job and we were wrong. Some us have been talking about it and I think now is the time to actually do something."

Hercules sighed. "What? We talked about this before. Nobody wanted the job."

"No, at the time, but things change." Ares flashed his brother a quick smile. "Even gods. I've been talking it over with Deimus. . ."

Iolaus, who was trying not to get his hopes up, interrupted. "What does the God of Fertility have to do with it?"

"If you want to create a new god, sometimes it helps to have the God of Fertility on your side."

"But," said Hercules, "you said, when I took on the duties of God of War, that it couldn't be given to a new god. It was too powerful a position for a newborn god."

"All that still applies but you two aren't giving me a chance to explain." Ares smiled again. "Iolaus said that in this alternate world, Ares was the God of War, right?"

Iolaus nodded. "And he seemed pretty suited to it."

"And Hades was the God of the Underworld, right?"

Iolaus again nodded in reply to Ares' question.

"So, I've been thinking, since Hercules took over as God of War, my job is a lot easier than it used to be. Now it's more paperwork than anything else and, quite frankly, I'm finding it a bit boring. I've had this idea that I could take over as God of War if I could get someone to take over the Underworld. As a child of the Titans, Hades is powerful enough to rule a whole world and he's not all that thrilled with the job he has. So, we were thinking--and Iolaus' story just seems to make it seem like an even better idea--Hades would take over the Underworld, I'd take over War and a new god would take over Hades duties as the messenger of the gods. That job really doesn't take a whole lot of skill besides being able to read a map."

Hercules was nodding. "So, someone would have a baby and as soon as that baby grew up. . ."

Ares clapped his hands together as his smile grew even broader. "Here's the brilliant part. Sometimes, gods are born adult and ready to take on the job. That's where Deimus comes in. We figure, with a little fiddling around, we could have a new but mature god, ready to replace Hades, within the year!"

"We?" asked Iolaus in clarification, giving Ares a penetrating look. "Just who would be the parents of this god?"

Ares winked. "Don't worry about it. Deimus and I have that all under control." At the horrified looks he received, Ares laughed again. "Don't panic. Aphrodite or Artemis will come into play. I want to make things right for you, Hercules, but not enough to get pregnant myself."

"You could do that?" Hercules sounded appalled.

"Yes, but as fond as I am of you, little brother, I'm not quite willing to make that sacrifice." Ares sighed and gave Hercules a sad smile. "I'm sorry we put you in this mess in the first place. I've felt guilty about ruining your life ever since." He leaned over and patted Hercules' cheek. "You are my favorite brother and even all dressed up as the big bad God of War, I still see you as the pudgy little baby with the big blue eyes."

Iolaus found himself snickering and realized just how much he sounded like some other Iolauses he had met, which made him laugh even more.

"You know," he said, wiping his eyes and smiling at his two favorite gods, "I wasn't happy when I ended up in that insane world but now I wish there was some way I could get a message back and tell them that I'm home safe and everything." His face was nearly split by a broad grin. "Everything is going to be all right!"

"Great!" Ares stood up. "I found this new restaurant in Amphipolis. It's run by a mother and daughter. Fabulous food. Let's go celebrate!"

***

Iolaus landed on one knee, grimacing at both the pain in his knee and the grip his daughter had on his hair. Since it wasn't held back by a clasp anymore, she could really get a good grip on it.

"Mene," he said through clenched teeth, "Please let go of Daddy's hair."

Mene, who had her faced buried in her father's chest, shook her head furiously.

"Look, sweetie," said Iolaus comfortingly as he got to his feet. "We're home."

And they were. They were standing just below their house, next to the forge. It was raining lightly, not enough to make Iolaus miss his cloak but enough to put the smell of fresh earth into the air.

"Home, Mene," Iolaus repeated, using one hand to pry his daughter away from him. "See?"

Mene looked up just as Deianaira came out of the house. She was facing away from them, her cloak pulled up, and was walking up the hill to where Iolaus could see two tall men standing. He suspected they were Hercules and Iphicles and that his wife had called them in to help with the search. Before he could call out, Mene shrieked, "MAMA!" at the top of her lungs and squirmed away from her father.

Iolaus set her down gratefully, smiling as Deianaira turned, her mouth open in shock. She dropped to her knees, more gracefully than he had, and spread her arms wide. Mene ran into them and threw her small arms around her mother's neck.

"Children," called Deianaira back towards the house. "Come out here. Your father's back!"

Four more children poured out of the house, all with blonde curls and wide blue eyes. Iolaus held his arms open as Deianaira had and welcomed all four into his embrace. Iph and Herc wrapped their arms around his legs, chanting "Daddydaddydaddy!" in their matched voices. Ilea wrapped her arms around his waist with a sob. Skouros gave his father a quick hug, then stepped back, being the eldest.

"I'll go get the uncles," he said, wiping away a tear, then turned and sprinted up the hill.

"Iolaus!" Deianaira, her youngest child held firmly in her arms, embraced her husband and the children as best she could, trying not to smother Iolaus in his family. "Where have you been? I'm so glad to see you. . ."

"And so angry that I didn't tell you where I went." He kissed her lightly, his eyes telling her how much he had missed her.

"I knew you must have been taken against your will. Hercules and Iphicles were sure of it as well. You'd never leave us voluntarily."

Iolaus saw the slight fear in his wife's eyes that he had done just that and sighed. He had a lot of explaining to do and not just about his visit to the other world.

"Let's go inside," he said, disentangling himself from his children as best he could, "and I'll tell all of you about it."

The children, once they were sure their father was back with their little sister, quickly lost interest in his long story, except for Skouros, who listened to the whole thing with wide eyes. Deianaira, who only let her baby go to put her to bed, kept shaking her head throughout her husband's incredible tale. Iphicles and Hercules just nodded now and then and asked questions.

"I can even prove it," Iolaus had said early on, showing them the little wooden rocking horse he had brought back with him. "It looks just like the ones that Hercules makes for the children only that Hercules didn't have time to paint it."

Hercules had taken the horse, running his hands over the curves. 

"See," said Iolaus, pointing at a detail, "It even has those matched swirls for the mane."

"I can hardly believe it, Iolaus, but I can't imagine you'd make it up." Hercules passed the horse to his brother, who examined the toy closely. 

"Especially not the bit about the merman," said Iphicles, setting the horse down. "That's a bit much, even for you."

Iolaus grinned. "He was the one who was most like me, married and about to start a family."

"Daddy," said Skouros, whose question was then interrupted by a yawn,

"You can ask Daddy in the morning." Deianaira took her son by the hand. "It's past your bed time."

"I'll put him to bed," volunteered Iphicles. "I need to see a man about a horse while I'm at it."

Hercules smiled as he watched his brother and the boy leave the room, laughing softly together about the idea of Iolaus "as a fish."

Iolaus had been sitting in his favorite chair near the hearth, Deianaira on a long bench on the opposite side of the room where she could have several children beside her or spread out her needlework, Hercules perched on the deep window ledge with the breeze behind him blowing the strands of hair that had come loose from his braids. With a sigh, Iolaus stood up and sat next to his wife, taking her hand in his. He didn't look at her, though, but at his friend.

"Come here, Herc," he said softly. 

Hercules frowned but came to stand in front of Iolaus. When Iolaus gave him an encouraging smile and patted the bench, Hercules took the hint and sat down, letting Iolaus take his hand as well.

"I enjoyed my visit in that other world." began Iolaus, not looking at either his wife or his friend but at the worn woven rug beneath his feet. "Because there was a Hercules there, I knew Mene and I would get home safely." He gave Hercules a quick smile. "And I knew my wife would forgive me as long as I got Mene safely home." He gave Deianaira the same smile.

"And yourself," she said, squeezing his hand.

Iolaus took a deep breath and let it out slowly, fixing his gaze on the rug again. "I admit, I liked some of the Iolauses better than others and I did find it fascinating to see all the possible turns my life could have taken. Who knows how many different versions of each of us there are out there?"

"Too many," said Hercules, sounding a little disapproving, "to think about."

Iolaus chuckled. "True. But I learned something from all of those other Iolauses. Did I tell you that only one actually had a child and his wife had left him years ago?" When both of his companions nodded, Iolaus continued. "None of them had proper families the way I do. None of them had a wife and children waiting for them at home. You should have seen the way that Hercules looked at Mene. Did I tell you that Hercules was married to Deianaira in that world and had children only one of the gods killed them?"

Hercules and Deianaira exchanged horrified glances over the top of Iolaus' head.

"No," replied Deianaira, "You neglected to mention that."

"Oh." Iolaus giggled. "Sorry. Yeah, that Hercules was married and had three children with his Deianaira. Something awful happened, I didn't get the details, and they were in the Elysian Fields. None of the Iolauses had proper families and I guess none of their Hercules did either. Do you understand?" He gave Deianaira and Hercules each a probing look. "It is awfully confusing."

It was Hercules who answered this time. "We get it."

Iolaus bit his lip. His wife and friend waited, recognizing that something was bothering him. Finally, he took another deep breath and began again.

"I know that I complain sometimes, about being stuck at home, not living the life of adventure that I used to." Both of his hands were squeezed affectionately. "I want you to know that I'm not serious when I do that." He looked up at Deianaira. "I know how lucky I am that you decided if you couldn't have Hercules, then I'd do in his stead."

Deianaira gasped. "Iolaus! How could you think such a thing?"

He smiled gently. "I know you want Herc. I know that I was your second choice. . ."

"How dare you!" His wife tugged sharply on a handful of his hair, enough to get his full attention without being painful. "How dare you think that you were my second choice." She glanced at Hercules, then back to Iolaus. "It's true, I'm attracted to Hercules." She smiled, blushing. "Which you, of all people, should understand." Her face grew serious. "But I love you, Iolaus. With all my heart. You were never, ever my second choice, not when it came to love. Real love."

Iolaus blinked back tears as he looked into his wife's eyes. "Really? I always assumed that you wanted. . ."

From behind him, Hercules said, "Don't be an idiot, Iolaus. All anyone has to do is look at the two of you and know. Yes, I love you and I love Deianaira and the children but that's different from what you two have. You two have the real thing."

Iolaus turned, pulling his hands free of his wife's. "Hey!" He exclaimed, glaring at Hercules. "We have a real thing, too. It's different but it isn't less." He frowned and turned back to his wife. "Is that why. . .sometimes. . .you think I'll leave you? I won't, you know. Even if I could. This is where I belong."

Deianaira's eyes lit up and Iolaus realized, for the first time, why there has always been that hint of doubt in their lives and how much he was at fault. He pulled his wife against him.

"Why is it," said Hercules, letting go of Iolaus so that Deianaira could hug him, "that you see yourself as unworthy, somehow, of being loved? Your parents were wonderful, loving people. You've always had friends and family who loved you. Why in the name of Ares' antlers do you think you don't deserve it?"

Iolaus tried to answer his friend's question, sniffling and taking several, hiccuping breaths. Hercules leaned in and embraced both Iolaus and Deianaira. 

"You are loved and lovable," whispered Hercules fiercely to the top of Iolaus' head. "Don't you ever forget it."

"But I was so awful," Iolaus finally gasped. "Killing all those people."

Hercules sat back, glaring at Iolaus, who looked up at him miserably. "Granted, what you did wasn't the most honorable thing but none of those people were innocent. Perhaps it would have been more noble to kill them in battle than in their beds but you did what you thought would help end that damned war. And it did! If you hadn't killed General Ajax, we'd probably still be in Ionia, fighting and killing and. . ." Hercules gulped suddenly, surprised at the vehemence in his own voice. "And besides, that was only an aberration, brought on by the stress of the war. You were a good man before and you are a good man now."

"You are," said Deianaira, leaning in to hug her husband again, "a wonderful man! The best husband, the best father. . ."

Hercules leaned into the embrace again as well, "And the best friend. . ."

Deianaira finished, "Anyone could ask for. And we love you. For you. For being Iolaus. Our Iolaus."

***

The vortex dropped Iolaus out into a clearing at the bottom of a narrow valley, just beside the path. He turned and watched it vanish, wondering if the others were all right. Then he looked around. 

He was home, he was sure of it. The vortex had dropped him just where it had picked him up days ago. Less than three days, he thought, shaking his head, and yet his whole life had changed.

One way, the road led back to Thebes. He knew there was a tavern on the edge of town, a disreputable place where he had been drinking that night before he was scooped up and thrown into a different world. He had played the fool that night, telling everyone exaggerated stories about his adventures with Hercules, making his relationship with his dead friend into something crude and cheap, just to earn a few drinks.

His hands slipped down to feel the edge of the cloak he now wore. He looked at the bracelets, bright against the dark wool. He could sell them for a bottle of decent wine, instead of the cheap stuff he was used to drinking. The cloak, the jewelry, the knife, all of them would earn him month's worth of drinking money.

If he followed the path in the other direction, in half a day's walk, he would come to the outlying village where his wife and son lived with his wife's parents. He had lied when he said he hadn't seen in his son in years. He saw him, from a distance, regularly. He made sure, however, that his son never saw him.

He walked back to Thebes, passing by the tavern, and into a shop. The shopkeeper didn't recognize Iolaus. This was the sort of respectable place that a drunkard would never set foot in. Even if the shopkeeper had seen Iolaus staggering drunkenly down the street or passed out in an alley, he wouldn't have looked closely enough to recognize this man, with his clear eyes and neatly combed hair.

The shopkeeper was delighted to purchase the golden hair clasp. Iolaus knew he could have gotten more money for it if he went into one of the finer shops or if he haggled but now all he wanted was enough money to be presentable when he returned home. He sold the fibula as well, buying a plain iron one to replace it. The cloak, since it had started to rain, he decided to keep. He kept the knife and bracelets as well, tucking them into a newly purchased purse. He might need to sell them later, if he was unable to convince his father-in-law to let him work in the forge again.

With a bag of dinars at his hip, Iolaus walked past the taverns again and out of town. As he walked, he found himself talking to Hercules. He often did that, when he was maudlin and in his cups, but now he wanted to explain to his friend where he had been and what he had finally learned.

"They say the dead can hear us," he said softly, pulling his hood up against the light rain, "and I could never decide if that were a good thing or a bad. Today, I really hope you can hear me, Hercules, because I have a few things to tell you.

"I went someplace. . .someplace impossible. I was taken there by gods and it was in that impossible place that I met three people who convinced me to change my ways. One of them was. . .you. You if you had. . .lived. If you lived and lost and grown older. You weren't dead in that place and I finally got a chance to tell you how sorry I was that failed you."

Iolaus laughed a little breathlessly as he said, "And you know what, you forgave me for the last ten years. It wasn't really you but it was enough like you that it helped." He wiped a tear away and continued his soliloquy. 

"I met Jason there, too. Only this Jason was good deal more forgiving than our Jason. He was sadder and wiser than our Jason. He made me believe that there is hope even for someone as hopeless as me.

"Now, here's the really odd bit. . .I met me. Several mes. In this world, there were half a dozen versions of me. Some of them were as unlike me as imaginable and some were what I wished I could be." He laughed again, glad that no one else was walking in the rain to hear him babbling to himself like madman. "One of them was half fish. I didn't actually get to meet him but I heard about him. He used to be sad and hopeless, too, but that Hercules helped him, like he helped me.

"One of the Iolauses. . .I know how odd that sounds but if you'd been there you'd have understood. . .one of the Iolauses lost his wife and child. His wife and son were murdered. He told me he was a terrible husband and worse father but because they were dead, he could never, ever make it up to them.

"My wife and son are alive. I have spent the last ten years, the last five especially, failing them in every way possible, but now. . ." Iolaus took a deep breath and let it out slowly, aware that he was clutching his hands together tightly against his chest. "Now I have the chance that other Iolaus didn't. I have the chance to go back and be. . .I don't know."

He looked up at the grey sky. Some people said Hercules had been taken to Olympus after his death to be a god. Iolaus never believed that if only because Hercules would have visited him, if Hercules were able. Hercules had to be trapped in the Underworld, dead and probably unaware of his own death.

"Zeus lost his son but Zeus has dozens of sons. I lost the only person who ever really believed in me. I never believed I was good enough for you." He looked down again, wiping the rain off his face. "I guess I never believed I was good enough for Ania either. I doubt she'd ever take me back as a husband and I'm not fit to be called a father but I will do everything in my power to help them, support them, care for them, if they'll let me. And even if they don't, I will find a way to live my life decently. Soberly." He smiled as he imagined Hercules giving him a rueful half smile, the way Hercules did when Iolaus said something that amused him. "I will send money to them and I will not be an object of shame for them. Or for you. Your memory deserves better.

"You were the best thing in my life, Hercules, and I don't think I ever told when you were alive how very much you meant to me. We always laughed about it, made our friendship a joke, but it was the center of my life. I loved you, Hercules." Iolaus sniffled and wiped his nose on sleeve. "I've never said that properly before but I'll say it now. I loved you and I will spend the rest of my life making myself worthy of that love."

He stopped in the middle of the path, taking several deep breaths, astonished at how good it felt to finally admit his love and yet, at the same time, finally let the grief go. You don't get over a loss, his mother had said to him when he first came back from finding Hercules' remains, you get through it. It had taken him ten years--ten long, wasted, miserable years--but he could finally think of Hercules and remember the good times, not just the pain of his loss.

For the first time in a decade, Iolaus found himself remembering those years when he and Hercules walked the roads of Greece together. There was still an ache in his heart that he knew would never leave him but the pain was softer, gentler, and allowed him to feel the joy of that friendship again.

"Do you remember," said Iolaus to his missing friend as he began to walk briskly down the path to his future, "that two-headed snake with the bad breath? It was raining the day we met it, too. Coming down in torrents it was, and the ground was so muddy we had trouble walking. We were arguing about something. . ." He shook his head and laughed at the image in his mind, ". . .and then we both got a whiff of that snake's breath. I'll never the look on your face!"

Iolaus braced himself for what was to come by remembering those good times as he walked. He was so successful, he was surprised when he crested the hill and found himself looking down at his in-laws prosperous holding. The forge was lit and a thin stream of smoke was trailing sluggishly down the side of the building, unable to climb to the sky in the heavy wet air. The goats his mother-in-law raised were browsing in a pasture on the opposite hill, specks of brown, grey, black and white against the bright green of the grass. The garden beside the house was neat, the rows weeded, the plants staked. Someone had been working before the rain started. Iolaus could see the shovel next to a pile of compost at the end of a row of eggplants. A cow and calf were staked out in the orchard, munching the windfall beneath the trees. 

Iolaus hesitated, his hand going to the pouch at his waist. Maybe he should just leave the purse and coin anonymously? No, he thought, remembering the fierce expression on the soldier's face as he told of his family's murder, I owe them more than money. I owe them an apology and, I hope, I future.

He started slowly down the winding path that lead to the bottom of the hill, hoping his resolve would hold. Before he had a chance to change his mind, the door to the house opened and out stepped Ania, chasing a dog before her.

"Get out of here!" she yelled at the dog as it raced towards the barn, "with your muddy feet!"

Iolaus was surprised to find a smile on his face at the sound of her voice. His wife kept a tidy house and had a firm hand when it came to animals.

She turned, straightening her apron, and saw Iolaus. Her eyes went wide as her hands went to her mouth.

For lack of anything intelligent to say, Iolaus said, "Hello, Ania."

They stared at each other for a moment, then she said exactly what he expected her to say.

"What happened to you?"

Iolaus shrugged and laughed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you but something did happen." He took a deep breath to steady his voice. "Something incredible and it made me realize how much I've lost in the last few years. . ." His voice faltered a little. Ania was still staring at him, wide-eyed. He couldn't tell what she was thinking. He reached for the purse. "Here," he said he handed her the money. "I know this doesn't begin to make up for the past but it is a pledge for the future."

"Iolaus," she whispered, as if she didn't believe what she was seeing. 

When he leaned forward to take her hand and put the purse in it, she started, pulling away. He tried not to feel the sting of her rejection. She stared at the purse in her hand, feeling the weight of it. Since his wife just kept staring at him as if he were a ghost, he found himself stammering to fill the silence.

"I know I have no right to be here and I can't make up for the past ten years but I swear on Hercules' grave that from now on, I will do everything in my power to be the husband and father I should have been." When Ania still remained silent, he tried to explain. "I know you have no reason to believe me but. . ."

"You forgive me, then?" Ania looked at Iolaus, her voice strained.

"Forgive you?" Iolaus was puzzled. "For what? I'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness."

Ania bent her head, her hands kneading the purse they held nervously. "Forgive me for keeping you from going with Hercules." When she lifted her head, her eyes were bright with tears. "Forgive me for being selfish. I know that his death was my fault. . "

"Ania! Hercules died because Demeter is mad and vengeful and . . ." His voice trailed off as he heard his own words. "Neither of us is to blame for his death. Even if I had been with him. . . " He had to swallow against the tears in his throat. "Even if I had been with him, I probably would have died. We both would have died and. . ."

"And Herculaus would never have been born."

The sound of his son's name made Iolaus wince. He had always meant to be a better father to his children than his father had been to him. Iolaus loved his son but his guilt had always stood between him.

"He's a good boy, isn't he?" whispered Iolaus. 

"He's a wonderful boy," said Ania. "Smart and full of life. All he needs. . ."

Before she could say anything else, there was a sound in the house behind her. She turned to see two people coming out onto the porch. When Iolaus saw them, he felt faint. One was his father-in-law and the other, a fair-haired boy about ten years old.

"Iolaus?" Not surprisingly, his father-in-law sounded stunned.

Iolaus' heart pounded as he looked into the eyes of his son. He could almost feel a broad hand on his shoulder, steadying him. Catching his breath, he nodded at his father-in-law in greeting. "Creon."

"Papa?" The boy looked up at him. "Are you back?"

Before Iolaus could answer, Creon said sharply, "We told Herculaus how you were traveling with King Jason on a distant sea voyage."

Iolaus gave Creon a grateful smile before he knelt so he could look into his son's eyes. "Yes, I've been on a long voyage to a very distant place. Jason is a very wise man and he told me I should go home now."

"Did you find your friend?" asked Herculaus eagerly. "Granda said you were looking for Hercules!"

"Yes." Iolaus let out a breath. "I found him and spoke to him but he has gone very, very far away and will not be coming back with me."

Iolaus was aware of his wife and her father staring closely at him. He would explain, someday, how true the story was, that he had taken a long voyage and found his friend. For now, though, all that mattered was the boy in front of him.

"Here." Iolaus reached into his pouch. "I met a man on this trip who was a very accomplished blacksmith." He pulled out the knife he had been given by that other Iolaus and handed it to his son. "He made this knife and told me how it was done."

Herculaus smiled in delight at the gift, then passed it to his grandfather, whose eyes went wide.

"This is amazing," said the older man, flexing the blade. "It's so fine you'd think it came from Ares' own forge." He cocked an eyebrow at Iolaus. "And you know how it's done?"

"I was told. I haven't actually made one but I have an idea and with some practice and experimenting, I think we could duplicate it."

"You're home, then," said Herculaus as he took his gift back from his grandfather. "For good."

Iolaus looked up at his family for confirmation. When both Ania and Creon nodded, he smiled at Herculaus and said, "Yes, I'm home for good."

The boy's smile grew even broader and he threw his arms around his father. They hugged each other as tightly as they could and Iolaus felt, again, that broad hand on his shoulder. Blinking back his tears, he whispered to his son and his friend, "I'm home. For good."

***

The vortex spun sickeningly around Iolaus as he was tossed through it, not even attempting to resist or control his direction. I wonder if I'll die en route, he thought. That might cause all sorts of complications. Would his soul be caught in that space between worlds? Would other travelers come by and find him haunting that place that was no place? If he died before he returned to his own world, would it effect the balance of the universe and mean more Iolauses would be torn out of their homes?

The question became moot as he dropped out of the vortex and onto the pavement of the God of War's temple. Iolaus lay face down, gasping desperately for breath. He made an effort to roll over because he really wanted to catch a glimpse of Aphrodite, although he would be probably first be summoned to the afterlife by her son, Eros, the incarnation of Death.

No Eros. No Aphrodite. After a moment, Hercules came running out of the temple and dropped on his knees next to Iolaus.

"You're back," said Hercules, pulling Iolaus onto his lap so that the dying man could breathe easier.

Iolaus wished he could catch his breath enough to make a sarcastic remark in response about how Hercules was a master of stating the obvious but all he could manage was a sneer.

"Well, well." 

Iolaus raised his eyes and saw Hades and Ares standing over him.

Hades shook his head disapprovingly as he said "Seems he bounced back."

Ares frowned. "What happened?"

Iolaus sputtered and choked as he tried to laugh. His response obviously annoyed the God of Wisdom, although Hades appeared to be hiding a smile.

It was Hercules who answered. "I don't think he can talk. He was dying when he left here and that was several days ago."

Ares frowned and made a gesture with his hand. Iolaus felt the blue bolt as it struck him, cutting off what little breath he could manage. Then what had been a strange experience got even stranger.

He could see, floating around the courtyard, enormous bubbles that seemed to showing scenes as if from a play. With considerable effort, he sat up a little and realized each bubble showed a different Iolaus. He could hear it all now, half a dozen voices babbling away.

"What in Tartarus. . ." mumbled Hercules, who slid an arm around Iolaus to help him sit up.

The gods seemed to be able to follow the bubbles. Each bubble was showing something that had happened to Iolaus while in that alternate world. Here was Neron, feeding him soup and telling him about the latest arrival. There was Hercules, a worried look on his face, as he asked Iolaus how he came to that world. A bubble filled with Jason, his face concerned, floated by.

"Fascinating," muttered Ares as he studied the bubble closest to him. In it, all the Iolauses were lined up to return to their worlds. The god pointed at the scholar. "He seems a bit smarter than the rest."

"What a mess," said Hades with disgust. "Look at all the trouble you caused." He was watching a bubble that showed a distant image of the soldier. "All those men, yanked out of their lives just to satisfy your curiosity."

"The quest for knowledge," replied Ares primly, "is always worth the risk."

"Would someone explain what happened to me?" said Hercules, sounding a little petulant.

"It seems Iolaus there went through the space in the middle where he was supposed to stop. . ." Hades began but was interrupted by Ares muttering.

"I suppose he didn't have the strength to resist and was pulled on through."

"Whatever." Hades gestured at the bubbles, which continued to drift around the courtyard. "He ended up in a world where he met another Iolaus and Hercules." Hades pointed to one bubble where a long-haired Hercules in a pale yellow shirt was standing next to an Iolaus in a patched waistcoat. "That world. Then, every half day, the vortex appeared and dropped another Iolaus into the world."

"Fascinating," said Ares as he stopped to study his warlike counterpart in one bubble.

"It would seem the only way they could keep their world filling up with Iolauses was to send ours back." Hades snorted and shook his head again. "So much for Ares' idea about using that wherever place."

The world was fading away at the edges of Iolaus' vision. The voices of the two gods and the demigod were doing the same thing, getting fainter and fainter. Iolaus could feel the solid body behind him and the arm holding him up but his own body felt distant and numb. Then he saw the flutter of wings and knew that Aphrodite's son had come for him.

"Eros!" 

Iolaus felt more than heard Hercules address his nephew. He heard Ares and Hades greet Death by his proper name as well.

"Mother's been wondering about him," said Death, standing over Iolaus, who couldn't really focus on the figure in front of him beyond to note he seemed to be holding a lantern which gave out a bright glow even in daylight. That must be the lamp that was lit by the olive oil that was pressed from the olives that were placed in the mouths of the dead when they were buried as their payment to enter the Afterlife. "He was due to die yesterday and we couldn't find him."

Iolaus closed his eyes and let himself relax back into Hercules' secure embrace. He heard Ares explain to his son about the alternate worlds. There seemed to be quite some discussion, with Hercules even taking part occasionally, but Iolaus was unconcerned. Eros only wore black leather trousers, his chest bare. Perhaps that meant that Aphrodite wore black leather as well. Her chest might not be bare but with any luck, some of it would be uncovered. 

Perhaps he shouldn't think that just now. Aphrodite might hear it as a prayer and be offended.

"I'm not offended, Iolaus."

He opened his eyes and saw Aphrodite, Queen of the Underworld, kneeling in front of him. He could see her clearly. She wore a long black skirt that was slit on either side so her legs were revealed nearly to her waist. The skirt rode low on her shapely hips. She wore a black breastplate trimmed in silver which displayed her charms quite nicely. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, accented by her onyx and silver crown. She was a vision and Iolaus smiled.

"In fact," she said with a smile in return, "I'm complimented. Now you know why dying men often. . ."

"Wait." 

It was Hercules. Iolaus dimly realized he was still held in the other man's arms.

"It's time, Hercules." Aphrodite's face grew solemn. "Poor Iolaus has suffered enough."

"No. Listen to me." Hercules' arm tightened around Iolaus. "Please. He hasn't had a chance. And after what he did for you, you should cure him."

Ares was standing behind Aphrodite now, who gave the God of Wisdom a quick smile. "He didn't do anything, Hercules. He just . . ."

"Let himself be sucked into oblivion, for all he knew! What if he had died in that place? How could he be judged? "

Aphrodite had a very nice navel. Very nice. Not quite perfectly round. Just asymmetrical enough to make it interesting. Her belly curved out just a little below it. Enticingly, you might say. Iolaus always liked a little flesh on a woman and while Aphrodite was a goddess, she had great flesh. Iolaus knew a dancing girl once who had her navel pierced by a tiny golden circlet on which hung a tiny golden bell. She had tried to talk Iolaus into getting something besides his ears pierced.

"Iolaus!"

He realized Aphrodite had taken his chin in her hand and was trying to get his attention.

"What?" he gasped, surprised he could speak.

"What do you think of Hercules' request?"

Hercules' request? What request? Iolaus had been thinking about Aphrodite's navel. Then he remembered something that the demigod had said about destiny diverted and second chances. Something to do with him.

"Please," said Hercules again from behind Iolaus, sounding almost desperate. "In all my life, I've never asked anything of any of the family but I am asking this."

"I can prevent him from dying," said Aphrodite, "But one of the others will have to cure him. That is not my gift."

"I'll do it." Ares reached out his hand and laid it on Iolaus' head. "Poor bastard did bring back all sorts of interesting information for me. Least I can do."

And then heat washed through Iolaus from that heavy hand and the world went red and then black.

***  
Hercules looked at the spot where the vortex had appeared. "I wonder if they all got home all right."

Iolaus had his head cocked to one side, as if he were listening to something very intently. After a long pause, during which Athena shrugged and vanished and even Aphrodite, after giving Iolaus a shimmy and wave, which he ignored, also disappeared, Iolaus said, "You know, Herc. I think they did."

He straightened and gave Hercules a blinding smile. "Don't ask me how I know but I just feel as if. . .as if everything has turned out just fine." The smile broke into a yawn. "And I feel as if I could sleep for a week."

Hercules laughed as he yawned in return. "Me, too," he said, tossing his arm around Iolaus' shoulders. "You know, it was better than you dead again but I'm glad it's all back to normal."

"As normal as it ever gets around here." Iolaus yawned again as they started to walk back to the Academy. "So, which one did you like best?"

Hercules just hugged his friend close and didn't bother to answer.

***

Iolaus woke slowly, aware first that he was lying on a soft bed again, as he had in the strange world, but lying flat rather than propped up on pillows. He was warm and comfortable and. . .

He sat up, pressing his hand against his chest. He took a deep breath. And then another. And another. And only then noticed Hercules watching him from a chair at the foot of the bed.

Hercules smiled at him. Iolaus realized he must have an astonished expression on his face. So astonished, he realized his mouth was hanging open and not to gasp desperately for air. He snapped it shut as he leaned back against the wall.

"Why did you do it?"

Hercules shrugged and looked away, embarrassed. His fingers were twisting the ties of his gauntlets again. "I don't know, exactly. I mean, I barely know you and you were dying and yet. . . seeing all those Hercules and Iolauses. . ." He frowned at the difficulty is saying those names in the plural.

Iolaus chuckled sympathetically as he arranged the pillows behind him. He was only partially paying attention to Hercules. Part of his mind was carefully reviewing exactly how he felt. He could breath deeply and with no difficulty, the aches in his back and side from the persistent cough were gone, he felt clear-headed and, for the first time in years, as if he could bounce out of bed and actually do something rather than just lie around and wait for death.

"Aphrodite is gorgeous," he said suddenly.

Hercules' eyes went wide and then he laughed, relaxing. "Yeah, she is. I gather the one in that other world was the Goddess of Love. Can't see that myself."

"Oh, I saw it." Iolaus gave Hercules a broad grin. They shared the moment, then both smiles faded a little as Hercules sighed.

"The Hercules and Iolaus of that world, they were close, weren't they?"

"Neron, he was the centaur, he said they were two halves of the same soul. He said that whenever Iolaus died, Hercules fell apart because for all his being the son of Zeus, it was Iolaus that was the stronger of the two."

The two men stared at each other. Finally, Hercules said, softly, "All my life, I have felt as if something were missing. That's why I came to serve Hades. I thought, it must be I needed something from Olympus. When that didn't help, I got married." He grimaced at the memory. "I loved Hebe but that wasn't the solution. In fact, it just seemed to make things worse. So then I married a mortal women, Megara. That was an even bigger disaster."

"I heard about that," said Iolaus. "Did she really try to kill you?"

"Yeah, but I don't think she meant it. She's married to my mortal half brother these days. I guess they're happy."

"So, you thought maybe I could. . ."

"I don't know." Hercules shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time and I did think that Hades and Ares owed you."

Iolaus looked around the room. He was naked under the sheet. When he saw a robe at the foot of the bed, he reached for it. Hercules picked it up and handed it to him and they shared a faint smile again. Iolaus slipped on the robe, then got up to look out the window. They were still in Hades' temple. He had a view of the courtyard where the vortex had taken and then returned him. Turning, he perched on the windowsill and studied the man still sitting in the chair, still twisting the ties. Not a man, he reminded himself, a half god.

"It was odd," said Iolaus slowly, trying to put his experiences into words and not sure he could, "seeing that Iolaus and that Hercules. They were close. They completed each other's sentences, like some old married couple." He smiled at the memory. "If one of them was in the room, you automatically looked for the other. Jason said they had been like that since they were kids."

Iolaus smile faded. He found it impossible to meet Hercules' eyes. The demigod was looking at him with such hope, although Iolaus could tell Hercules was trying to conceal his feelings.

"We haven't known each other since we were kids," said Iolaus slowly, "so I don't think we can ever be that close."

"I wanted to go after you, you know. When you took my knife. But my father said I shouldn't." Hercules frowned. "He said you were trouble. I think he meant that you might distract me from what he had in mind."

"Hercules. . ."

"I know. It's probably too late." Hercules bit his lip as he held out his hands beseechingly. "And you have every right to walk away. You are a free man. And a well man. I can give some money. . ."

"Stop." Iolaus left his perch on the windowsill and walked slowly over to face Hercules.   
"It may be late in our lives but maybe it isn't too late."

"They all obviously meant so much to each other." Hercules gestured towards the courtyard that had held the views of that other world. "I watched all of them, and you could see it. That they needed Hercules. And I 'm certain. . ." His voice trailed off as he looked into Iolaus' eyes.

"That Hercules," finished Iolaus softly, "needed Iolaus."

"Yeah." Hercules wiped his nose on his gauntlets and let out his pent-up breath.

Iolaus sat on the end of the bed, aware of how closely Hercules was watching him. He felt it as well, that tug inside. Hercules didn't have to be a god to connect them. They were connected by the Fates and the Universe and they always had been, they just didn't know it. Iolaus was surprised to see his hand resting on Hercules' knee but he didn't pull it back, even as Hercules laid his hand over it.

"I don't have anything to lose," said Iolaus. "But you do. You're the second in command to the God of War."

"All I have to lose is this emptiness that has been in my heart all my life."

Iolaus had to try twice before he could manage any words. He knew, at that instant, that all that had happened in the last few days had been meant to create this moment. That all of them, every god in every world, every Iolaus, every Hercules, had played their part to bring these two men to where they were meant to be.

"So," said Iolaus, smiling at his friend, "What do we do now?"

"Well," Hercules gave him a shaky smile and released his hand with a squeeze. "We could get something to eat. Your return interrupted my breakfast and you've been asleep for six hours and I've. . ."

"Been here that whole time."

"Yeah." The smile grew stronger. "I wanted to be here when you woke up."

"Well, find me a pair of pants. . .and a chamber pot. . ." Iolaus grinned at the sound of Hercules' laughter, "and I'm up for a meal."

"How do you feel about honey roasted goat with almond butter? Uncle Hades doesn't care one way or another about food so I hired this woman who is the greatest cook. Ania does things with goat that would make the gods weep if they ever deigned to eat her cooking."

Iolaus said it sounded good to him and they left the room, Hercules' arm around Iolaus' shoulders, and started their lives together.

July 21 2002


End file.
